


Oh Brave New World (that has such humans in it)

by Zab43



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Armageddon II, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley as a Teacher, Demon & Human Interactions, Demon temptations, Demons, Enemies to Friends, Established Relationship, Even if they are being idiots about it, F/M, Hastur and Ligur are in love too - obviously, Hastur is still a demon though, Hastur picks things up quickly, Hastur/Ligur Redemption, M/M, Mentioned Cthulhu (Cthulhu Mythos), Sexual Harassment, Therefore he is sneaky and evil - although also sweet, demonic work, learning new things, naive hastur, new experiences, redemption arc, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 54
Words: 88,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25972369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zab43/pseuds/Zab43
Summary: A story about what came after Armageddon’t - Hastur tries to come to terms with the failure of the great plan, Crowley and Aziraphale settle down to enjoy their newly extended time on earth, Ligur (yes he lives!) is recovering and what happens to Adam now he’s no longer the Antichrist?Mostly a story of what happens when a demon with very little interest in humanity suddenly finds himself stationed on earth and expected to replace a certain traitor, while looking after his sick partner and trying to rerun Armageddon….A collected cast of random humans interact with the familiar celestial and infernal personalities to help them try to make sense of this brave new world and, incidentally, deal with an Armageddon II in the making.(EDIT - finally finished so the whole thing will be posted eventually, so long as I can stop re-writing bits! Comments still welcome)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Hastur (Good Omens), Hastur & Adam Young (Good Omens), Hastur & Original Character(s), Hastur/Ligur (Good Omens), Hastur/Original Characters
Comments: 100
Kudos: 56





	1. The Argument

"Fine" shouted Crowley. "That's just fine" he added for emphasis glaring at the angel angrily.

Aziraphale was hurt. He'd assumed Crowley would be fine, really be fine that is, with his continued activities on heaven's behalf. It wasn't like he was still working for them, not really. Well, maybe he was, but only on a freelance basis, barely official.

Crowley, despite his words, clearly wasn't fine.

"You said 'don't interfere' and I haven't. You said 'let the humans work it out for themselves' so I've left them to it. Now I find out you've been meddling all along!" Shouted the demon. 

Aziraphale squirmed. "It's not like that"

"Oh, it's not is it? Go on then, tell me what it's like" the deceptively reasonable tone didn't fool him.

"I just…. Well I couldn't just let the poor man starve now could I?" The angel was quite distressed at the idea.

"Yes, yes you could. That's the whole point isn't it? Letting the humans decide on their own what to do. Even if they decide to do evil. It's their choice, their lives, they decide. That's the whole point".

The demon was really genuinely angry. They'd agreed not to intervene, stop all their meddling and just leave it to the humans. No Hellish temptations to lead them astray. No Heavenly impulses to make them do good.

He'd abided by it. No temptations, no demonic miracles to sway them into doing bad. The angel hadn't. Good was still being foisted onto humanity like a conjurer forcing a card.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't what they'd agreed. He stared at the angel willing him to understand, to agree he'd broken their agreement and apologise. Promise not to do it again.

Aziraphale looked at the floor. He couldn't, just couldn't stand by and let someone suffer right in front of his eyes.

All he had done was implant a suggestion, just a suggestion. The café always had leftover food. Why should they lock it in the commercial waste bins when they could give it away to the hungry people sat outside?

Just the leftovers at the end of the day. A few sandwiches, some fruit salad tubs. Things that would spoil otherwise. What was so wrong with that?

He knew it was interfering technically, but how could he not? It was only a suggestion anyway, an invitation to do something good for their fellow man. It was the humans’ decision to act on it. He didn't force them.

He started trying to explain this again, but the demon wasn't listening. They'd already had this argument. Round and round for hours. The worst thing was that deep down he knew the demon was right. It was interfering and he had promised not to interfere. He sighed.

Crowley turned, disappointed with the reaction. His shoulders slumped and he walked out of the bookshop door, slamming it behind him.

Back in the bookshop the angel started crying. He loved the demon, but he also loved people. He couldn't let them starve each other for no reason other than thoughtlessness.

It was an insurmountable problem. He'd made it worse going behind the demon's back, sneakily helping people. It made it feel wrong when really it was the right thing to do. Well it was, wasn't it?

He wasn't sure anymore. Usually he would ask Crowley for reassurance, but he wasn't here now. The thought made him cry even harder.

In the meanwhile Crowley stomped through London. He had left the Bentley in its garage when he'd moved in with the angel. He could flag down a black cab, but stamping through London scowling was making him feel better.

He walked away a lot of his anger in the couple of miles to his flat. What was left was just sadness. How could someone so clever be so stupid? How could he not see that interfering was wrong whatever the motive?

Besides, he'd been deceived, duped into believing that the agreement was being honoured. That the angel wasn't helping Heaven, was a free agent.

He had resisted Hell's invitations to come back and work for them. Despite the fact doing nothing was so boring. Not causing trouble, not messing about with people. Doing the wrong thing was in his nature and he had missed it, but he had stuck to their agreement.

Now he felt foolish and that was why he was so cross. This realisation made it worse. He couldn't even be angry without it being selfish. Bless it, he might as well give up and become a proper demon again.

The more he thought about it the more he felt like the angel was right too. It was such a little thing, such a small courtesy he’d inspired in the café owner and it meant so much to Aziraphale. Surely blowing the whole thing up to a massive row was the wrong thing to do?

The nagging feeling that he was in the wrong just made his mood worse. He wasn’t going to apologise. Aziraphale had gone behind his back over it and that was certainly wrong. He’d sneakily done good in the hope that he wouldn’t notice.

The demon’s face flushed. He might not have been in the right when he’d started such a big argument, but Aziraphale should have apologised, at least for going behind his back even if not for the deed itself. 

Yes, that was what it was. Not so much what he’d done but that he hadn’t apologised for it. He had made him look stupid and that was wrong. Having settled, in his own mind, the rationale for being annoyed he started to pay more attention to his surroundings.


	2. A New Demon in Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley reaches his destination, but finds something unexpected, or more to the point *someone* unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m trying for shorter chapters compared to the other longer stuff I’ve written - keep it concise and not try to cram more than one event into each chapter. Unfortunately now I seem to have the opposite problem and feel like I am spreading one ‘scene’ over multiple chapters… Oh well, I’ll sort it out eventually I’m sure!

As Crowley climbed the stairs to the flat he sensed something odd. A presence that made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. There was another demon somewhere near here.

The sensation got worse as he got nearer his own door. They wouldn't have would they?

Technically the flat had been acquired with Hellish miracles. So technically it was Hell's property. They wouldn’t have taken it back would they? Stationed another demon in his home. The thought made him even more angry. He'd discorporate them. Whoever it was, they were dead.

The first problem was the door. It had been changed. Normally the thick steel door with multiple locks wouldn't have been a problem, but it was protected with hexes too. He hammered on it shouting for the occupant to "open up".

Eventually, after several minutes of knocking, the door was cautiously opened. Another demon peered through the crack. He recognised those black eyes.

"Hastur?!" He was shocked. After what had happened in the flat Hastur was the last demon he would have expected to see there. He'd nearly killed him the last time he'd been there.

He had the presence of mind to kick the door open before Hastur could slam it in his face. The tall demon staggered back as Crowley forced himself into the flat.

It wasn't until he was fully inside that his brain registered that something was odd about the other demon. He was wearing an apron. In his hand, where Crowley would have expected a weapon of some sort, was a soup ladle.

Both spoke simultaneously "what are you doing here?"

Hastur waved the ladle threateningly, sending soup flying through the air. Crowley wiped the soup from his face. It smelled nice. He licked his fingers. It tasted nice too. He looked quizzically at the other demon.

"It's chicken" grunted Hastur, answering the question the black clad demon hadn't asked. Continuing a second later. "Help him get his strength back after what you done to 'im".

He was confused "after I did what, to who?"

"To whom" the tall demon corrected him, which only increased his confusion.

"Guess you're here to try n' finish the job? Well you gotta deal with me first. You ain't gonna get him again that easy". Hastur bought the ladle round, looking like he might smite his fellow demon with it.

Crowley took a step back as more chicken soup flew his way. He held his hands up. "Hey, Hastur, honestly I don't know what you're talking about".

Hastur ignored him, squaring up to him with the ladle still clutched in his hand. He growled aggressively. When Crowley didn't react he shouted "come on then" glaring at him.

"I'm not here to fight you. I just wanna know what you're doing in my flat" he said reasonably.

"You ought to know. You done it to him". Hastur was still glaring, but had thankfully lowered the ladle.

"Done what to who?" He saw he was about to be corrected again so saved the other the bother. "To whom?"

"Ligur of course. Like you don't know. He's been stuck here for weeks now. Too weak to get back to Hell. Woulda been dead if you'd had your way". The tall demon's shoulders slumped and he looked profoundly unhappy.

"He's alive? Here? Now?" Crowley was nearly panicking. Hastur and Ligur were in his flat, again, and this time he had no holy water. He took a step back realising the door had shut behind him and he was trapped.

His adversary with the ladle looked confused. "You really dint know he was here?" He asked squinting.

"Hey now, let's be reasonable about this. I know what happened last time might look bad, but I was only defending myself". He hoped that would be enough.

Hastur continued squinting. "He hadn't never done nothing to you".

"Yet. He hadn't done anything: yet" Crowley had the feeling they'd had this conversation last time and he'd managed ok. Problem was that this time he didn't have an ansaphone primed and at the ready.

The stand off lasted a few seconds then, surprisingly, Hastur seemed to give up. "Go on then, might as well finish me off". He dropped his arms to his side in resignation.

Crowley started reassuring him before he even thought about it. Must be too much time hanging around with an angel. The niceness was wearing off. "I don't want to hurt you. Or Ligur. I didn't even know you were here" he explained.

The other demon was even more confused. “What do you mean you didn’t know he was here? What are you doing here if you’re not here to kill him. Again. Try to anyway. Why aren’t you off with that blessed angel being all happy n’ stuff”.

“We had an argument” he admitted in a dejected voice before remembering who he was talking to.

Surprisingly his fellow demon didn’t laugh. Instead he reached out and patted him on the arm saying quietly “you’ll sort it out. Go and talk to him”

That was very good advice, but being a demon Crowley immediately read the worst into it. “You just want me out of your flat….my flat I mean. Why are you here anyway?”

“Told ya. Ligur is recovering, can’t go back to Hell before he’s properly better, end up getting torn to pieces. Stuck ‘ere, have been for weeks”. Hastur rolled his eyes clearly fed up with explaining this.

“Why isn’t he dead? Holy water should of, y’know, totally destroyed him”

“Dunno, sommat happened, after the world dint end. I felt it, come here and he was, well he was kind of here too”. The tall blond demon smiled at the memory.

“So you’ve been here ever since?”

“Yup, not much else we could do. Gotta get his strength back”.

At this point a voice came from the bedroom. “Wass going on Hast? Who is it?” The voice wasn’t exactly weak, but there was a slightly strained quality to it. Like the owner was struggling to get the words out.

Hastur looked torn, he obviously wanted to go to the owner of the voice and go quickly. Equally he clearly didn’t want to leave the other demon unattended.

“Is that him?” Crowley asked unnecessarily.

The tall demon just hummed agreement and looked from Crowley to the door and back indecisively. Eventually he made his mind up, grabbing Crowley by the arm he propelled him down the corridor and through the door.


	3. Ligur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So we know Ligur is at the flat but how is he and how is Hastur looking after him?

The first thing Crowley noticed was the change to the lights. Instead of the rather showy chromium down-lighters and spot-lights there appeared to be strings of fairy lights in multiple colours. The demon was disturbed to see these appeared to be battery operated and nailed onto his expensive walls.

The next thing was the wall of heat that hit him. It was provided from a series of burners that looked like they’d come straight from Hell. Filled with glowing coals the metal containers sat on weirdly twisted looking stands.

Finally he noticed the furnishings. When this had been his flat the style had been minimalist. Bare walls, single items of expensive designer furniture chosen for their aesthetic or innate comfort. It had been a functional space, not cosy, more utilitarian and sparse, but it had suited him.

Now the place was a mess. Colourful drapes were pinned over the windows and on the walls, strings of lights criss-crossed the room, rugs of various sizes covered the floor. Some looked suspiciously like bathmats.

The furniture appeared to have been rescued from skips, a half collapsed sofa, an armchair with stuffing leaking out of the cushion and a pile of mattresses covered with blankets of indeterminate colour and age. The heat and smoke from the burners created an unhealthy miasma that smelled of sulphur and rotting vegetation.

Hastur saw Crowley’s gaze of disbelief and entirely misinterpreted it. “Nice innit? Better than before, more homely”.

The other demon was too stunned to say anything.

Something was nagging at the back of his mind, something important that he had subconsciously been reminded of. Now what was it?

Rotting vegetation. That was it. The smell of rotting plants. He ran through the room and along the hall into what had previously been his greenhouse. It was still there. The plants were still there. In fact they appeared to be even more verdant and luscious than they had been before he’d left.

“Yeah, found your garden. Been takin’ care of it. Plants is good for the air see, makes it oxyge-whatsit-ated like”. The other demon squinted again.

“You took care of them?” He was really confused now. As far as he was concerned if Hastur said he’d ‘taken care’ of something it would mean that the thing was dead. Very dead. Instead he seemed to have made a veritable jungle.

Hastur left him to it. Let him wander around the ‘garden’. He wanted to see Ligur. Make sure he was ok.

Back in the bedroom the pile of blankets was moving. Ligur peered out from under them. He was cold and tired.

When he’d woken up on the floor in a flat he only vaguely recognised the first feelings he had as cold and loneliness. It felt like something important had been taken from him. What was left wasn’t quite whole. He lay there wishing, hoping for something, someone to come and help him for what seemed like an eternity.

Eventually Hastur had turned up. He no longer felt lonely. Just cold and tired. So very, very tired. His thoughts were sluggish still, his body unresponsive. He could just about sit up now and only after weeks of patient care.

It felt like he’d be stuck here forever, that whatever had happened had taken so much from him that there was virtually nothing left.

He felt arms around him, helping him into a sitting position. He knew those arms, that smell. He recognised the tender way he was lifted, the way the cushions and pillows were piled up behind him to allow him to sit comfortably.

Hastur looked at his charge. The demon was more solid to look at now. When he’d originally found him he’d been little more than a ghostly outline. Barely present. In fact on his first inspection of the flat he’d actually missed the translucent shape.

He’d carefully stepped round the wet pool in Crowley’s office, not wanting to think about what it represented. Walking around the flat several times he wondered why he’d had such an irresistible urge to come here. It was only when he’d passed it for the third time that he actually looked and saw…well, saw what remained of Ligur.

“What was the noise?” asked the half see-through demon.

He answered with one word “Crowley” and saw the look of alarm in his partner’s ghostly face. “Nah, dunt worry, he ain’t here to kill ya”. Ligur relaxed.

At this point the dark clad demon re-entered the room and saw the shadowy figure for the first time. “Shit” was the only thing he could think to say. Following it up with a belated “hey, I dint mean to, well I did mean to, but not, well, ngh”. He ground to a halt.

The shape on the pile of mattresses shifted round to look at him and replied “Crowley innit? What you doin’ here?”

“Yeah, why are you still here?” Hastur added.

“Well, this is my flat” Crowley was defensive.

“No, it’s our flat. We’re here see and you wasn’t. Possession is nine tenths of the law and demonic possession is even more than that” Hastur explained.

“Yeah, but I’m here now and I need to stay”

“Mebbe if you ask us politely we might let you use the spare room” Hastur offered in a sneering tone.

At this point Ligur sighed heavily and slumped down on his pillow nest. Hastur rushed forward and helped him back up again saying fussily “soup, you need soup” and rushing out. Crowley followed.

What he saw surprised him. It appeared to be a kitchen. He was pretty sure his flat had never had a kitchen. He didn’t eat as a rule and certainly had never considered cooking. Yet here was what appeared to be a fully functional kitchen. Well a kind of functioning kitchen at least.

On a small wood burning stove was a large pot with fragrant steam rising from it. That must be the chicken soup. Hastur plunged the ladle into the depths of the pot and stirred it round sending waves of cooking smells in Crowley’s direction.

The soup really did smell good. He wandered over and looked into the pot. Noodles and lumps of meat and vegetables were swirling around under the surface, occasionally rising to the top, then sinking underneath.

Hastur watched him warily and took a slurp out of the ladle. He then reached for a pot of something from a shelf and tipped some in. “You want some?” he offered.

“Mmm, nah, think I’m ok, thank you anyway” He didn’t quite trust his fellow demon. There could be anything in that pot. He remembered that apparently ‘everything tastes like chicken’.

“Suit y’self” he threw out as he ladled soup into a cracked bowl (which had definitely not belonged to Crowley) and took it out to the bedroom. The other demon followed and saw him carefully crouch down and help Ligur hold the bowl up to his mouth to eat.

Since when did Hastur have a caring side? He was meant to be dangerous: a violent and sadistic psychopath without empathy or pity. Yet here he was feeding soup to a sick demon with every sign of care and concern. Had he gone soft? This was getting too weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few twists in this story but I’m setting the scene here - still not finished and it keeps growing in the writing, this might be quite long by the time I’m finished…if I finish…


	4. Making a Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the scene in the flat - Crowley has a chat with Hastur, which maybe he’ll regret later…

Once Ligur had finished off the contents of his bowl Hastur turned and said “well, bin lovely having you visit n’ all, but don’t ya think it’s about time you went n’ apologised to your angel and got out of our way?”

Crowley bristled, this was his flat he was buggered if he was leaving it so those two could continue their weird game of doctors and nurses.

“I’m staying. I’m not apologising to that blessed angel after what he did and this my flat” He looked belligerently over at Hastur.

“What’s he done? He’s an angel, it can’t be that bad”

For some reason he really wanted the other to sympathise with his point of view. The impulse overrode his natural caution and he started to explain: “it’s not bad at all, that’s the problem. He’s doing good”.

The demon was getting angry again, but the revelation didn’t seem to have made much of an impression on the other.

“Well a’course he’s done good he’s a blessed angel what did ya expect?”

“He agreed not to interfere, we agreed, leave the humans to it, let them sort it out for themselves”. He couldn’t help but explain, in the hope the other would understand why he was so annoyed. He suddenly and very urgently needed the other to agree with him. If Hastur was angry too it would help justify his own anger.

“Ha! ‘an you believed him? You gone an’ picked the only angel out the lot of ‘em that actually cares about humans. Catch Gabriel tryin’ to ‘do good’. He wouldn’t know a good deed if it bit him on the arse. Nah, you picked the one angel that couldn’t help but interfere. It’s a hopeless case might as well face it”. Hastur looked smug.

Crowley felt dejected, sighing heavily and throwing himself down into the battered armchair. It wasn’t fair. Aziraphale was always going to care and it was stupid of him to think he could stop it. Not that he didn’t care, it’s just that he was willing to let the experiment run, didn’t mind so much when people did their own thing. 

As a demon he’d been actively encouraging humans to hurt each other for long enough that stopping doing anything was almost ‘doing good’ in and of itself. The thought made him uncomfortable. It didn’t feel right, his thoughts were starting to get a little muddled, something was odd here.

Hastur was staring at him with his blank, black eyes. He sensed an opportunity and he was a demon after all. “You could even things up y’know. Come back to work for us”. 

His cautious proposal didn’t immediately elicit a negative response so he continued “pretty sure Beelzebub would be pleased to see ya if you let me talk to her. It would only be fair after all, only making it even again, not what you’d call interfering, just balancing things out. What d’ya say?”

Tempting. That’s what it was. Very tempting. Demons were good at temptation and Hastur was a good demon - or a bad demon whichever. He considered.

“I don’t want Beelzebub involved...” he started slowly.

Hastur jumped in eager to encourage him “no, no I can see why you wouldn’t want a big fuss made, but maybe a few little temptations on the side, unofficial like. Only fair isn’t it?”

The other demon continued his train of thought “…it would only be to balance it out. Not working for Hell full time….only to even things up?” Hastur nodded, his grin getting wider, his teeth looking sharper and more dangerous with every movement.

He carried on still with a little hesitation in his voice. “Only the little stuff right? Not like the Spanish Inquisition, yeah? Just the odd temptation here and there…”

“Thatta boy, we’ll show them angels what’s what. Doin’ good - pah! Soon put a stop to that eh?” Hastur grinned a wide toothy grin. An evil grin. Just like old times.

“I dunno about that….” Crowley started realising he might be in too deep. However, in his own mind he was already committed, had already decided what he was going to do. He wanted to get back at Aziraphale.

Now he’d come to the conclusion that he was possibly in the wrong for starting the argument he felt even more that he should get his own back some other way. He couldn’t shout and loudly exclaim he was in the right, but he could still get his own back.

There was a faint buzzing in his head but he ignored it, this was about him getting even, it was only fair. Hastur continued to grin and Crowley felt compelled to say something “oh, alright then, but nothing big, nothing to attract too much attention right?”

“Of course, just the little things: promise. You can trust me”. Crowley stared hard at Hastur. He was about the least trustworthy entity anyone could possibly imagine. He was still grinning too. It was most unsettling.

The slight buzzing at the back of Crowley’s brain went up a frequency, not painful but doing something….something… He didn’t know what it was doing, he couldn’t really focus on it. The thought that came clearest was that he wanted to get back at the angel though didn’t he? What he’d done hadn’t been fair. It was only going to make it even again wasn’t it?

The other demon nodded like he could hear his thoughts. Still grinning he turned to Ligur and winked. “That’s it, just makin’ things fair” he crooned softly before turning back to Crowley and nodding, an attempt at innocence in his dark eyes. Crowley found himself nodding along with him.

“Shall we shake on it?” Hastur suggested holding out his claw-like hand, still with the mock-innocent look in his eyes.

Crowley was still nodding, seemingly unable to stop. He held out a hand and it was gripped painfully. They made eye contact and Hastur hissed at him “it’s a deal” while Crowley continued to nod. The air fizzed slightly. It was indeed a deal now, an unbreakable deal.

Hastur pulled back, a more ordinary look on his grimy face. “Why don’t you run back to your little angel, let him know everything is going to be alright, no need to fight” suggested the tall demon.

“But he’ll know something is up. We talked about this for hours, argued for hours. He won’t think I’ve just, just…. *forgiven* him”. Despite the angelic tendencies rubbing off the word still caused him some pain. Forgiveness was a sore point for demons. She would never forgive them, they were unforgivable.

“He’ll believe it. He *wants* to believe it”. The tone was persuasive and he knew Hastur was dead right. The angel wanted so hard to be forgiven, to be reassured he had done ‘the right thing’ that he wouldn’t question it.

It felt like taking advantage of him, exploiting a weakness. That should have made him uncomfortable, but something demonic surfaced inside him and he got a warm glow. It’s what demons did after all, it was only natural and he couldn’t get away from his nature.

There was still a slight background hum in his head as he turned and walked away. Hastur ran after him to open the front door and usher him out, still grinning.

It wasn’t until he was stood the other side of the door, away from a very dangerous Duke of Hell and the other side of the occult-insulating protective hexes, that he started to have misgivings. It was like he’d been hypnotised, led into the deal without really considering the consequences.

However, a deal was a deal and he couldn’t back out now. He tried to justify it in his own mind. It was only getting even, levelling the playing field, now he thought about it the words sounded a little hollow. Hastur had promised it would only be small stuff at least.

He ran that through his head again. Hastur had promised…. Hastur. Had. Promised. The thought did not sit comfortably with him. What had he got himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I did say Hastur was still an evil demon!


	5. Hastur's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened after the trial? What was Hastur, of all demons, doing on earth and why would he have gone to Crowley's flat?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A two-part chapter. Regretting deciding on shorter chapters already as they're running together somewhat. Maybe I'm just a little too verbose.

As the door shut Hastur cackled. That had gone more smoothly than he’d thought possible. It was a good job the other demon hadn’t tried to take up the offer of the spare room though. It was currently occupied. 

Removing the apron the tall demon opened the door to the bedroom and then the wardrobe. There was a slightly dishevelled woman inside, he dragged her to her feet and indicated she should follow him to the kitchen. She looked resigned to this treatment and followed without complaint.

The woman stirred the soup and tasted it “what did you put in this?” She snapped at him. The demon shrugged, tipping in one of the little pots had seemed like a good idea to convince Crowley he was in charge of the cooking, lull him into a false sense of security. In actual fact he had no idea about cooking, it looked fun though. “Tastes like sugar” said the human, tutting and shaking her head in an exasperated way.

Hastur ignored her. She was strange, but was doing a good job of looking after Ligur. He’d only half lied when he said he was stuck on earth looking after Ligur. His fellow demon was weak still, wouldn’t be able to defend himself fully in Hell yet. He was getting stronger though.

The main problem was that, after the trial, Hell had needed someone to blame. They’d failed to take out their vengeance on Crowley and so had turned to the next best thing. Next worst thing. Hastur had come in for a lot of abuse.

He had handed the child to Crowley. He was the supervising demon. He had got himself discorporated on a simple mission to collect him and lost Hell one of their best Dukes in the process. Most importantly he had been responsible for the holy water fiasco. It had been his idea.

Admittedly Hell had loved the idea. Let the punishment fit the crime. A big show, something to assuage the discontent felt by the massed hordes of demons. When it hadn’t worked though someone had to pay.

It had taken every ounce of his strength to keep his head above the crowds baying for blood. With a massive effort of will and blaze of hell-fire he’d got out of the courtroom. That had only been the start of it. 

Alone, surrounded by enemies, he’d fought. Clawing and biting, burning and beating all that came at him. He’d also talked, negotiated, wheedled his way around Dagon, around Beelzebub. Convinced them that he was loyal and, in the current climate of rebellious demons jockeying for position, that they needed his loyalty.

After weeks of fighting for position, fighting to maintain at least his corporation, to stay out of eternal torment in the lowest circle of Hell, Hastur had been tired. So very, very tired.

He had managed to manipulate or beat into submission most of those who plotted against him. Avoided total annihilation, kept his position at least in name. Still Hastur, Duke of Hell even now.

The price for his continued existence was exile. Exile to earth. The excuse was that they needed someone to replace the traitor. An agent on earth. He knew the real reason was to get him out of Hell, away from the seat of power and unable to cause any more trouble. 

The struggle had taken so much out of him he had almost been grateful for the chance to escape to earth. It had been exhausting. He had nearly been beaten, only survived by the barest margin. If Ligur had been there he’d have had no problem. Alone it was a big problem. He’d managed though, just.

He was still alone. So very alone. It was a new feeling and not a nice one. He had realised how much he missed Ligur. Sitting in the dark not knowing what to do, where to go, stuck on an earth stinking of humanity.

The humans She had created to be better than he and his fellows. The humans who had betrayed Her trust but She was still prepared to forgive. The humans who should have been destroyed in Armageddon, just a smudge of ash under the feet of the conquering demons.

The humans had bustled around him, smiling or frowning, doing their own thing almost like Heaven and Hell didn’t exist. Like it was all irrelevant. The great struggle between good and evil seemed to mean nothing to them.

It all suddenly seemed so pointless. What did it matter in the end? The Great Plan or the Ineffable Plan. Armageddon or no Armageddon. The great victory of the rebels, their triumphal return to Heaven, postponed indefinitely and nothing felt any different.

Stuck in this hopeless, nihilistic void, his existence felt pointless. Anything he could do to sway humanity into evil wouldn’t bring back Armageddon. His job just felt like a stupid waste of time. What was it all for?

Finding Ligur had at least given him a purpose for being stuck on earth. The unexpected reincarnation gave him an ally. Well, he would be an ally when he was back to full strength.

Hastur had been very surprised to realise how much he actually cared about his fellow demon. He’d spent six thousand years around him pretty much constantly he supposed. He knew he relied on the other, enjoyed his company, was attracted to him both mentally and physically, but demons didn’t *care* did they?

He’d seen his fellow demon as a pleasant distraction from the day to day misery of Hell. Someone to share his thoughts and deeds with, a fellow plotter and doer of evil. Someone to cling to when the bleak horror of a thousand years of Hell pressed down on him. Of six thousand years of Hell in fact.

He wouldn’t have described him as his friend per se, or his lover, although many other demons in Hell saw him like that. Ligur was more a comrade, a companion, basically the only demon whose company he could tolerate for more than a few hours. It wasn’t until he’d lost him that he realised how much he needed the other.

As he’d sat alone, thinking about his fellow demon, he’d missed him. Not for his usefulness, his innate evil abilities and strength as an ally, but for him personally. It felt like part of him was missing.

That was when the urge to visit Crowley’s flat had hit. He’d resisted at first. It felt like a morbid urge. An excuse to wallow in the misery that was already ruining his ability to work.

If he couldn’t work then Hell would have a valid reason to destroy him. He had to keep up the pretence, send the memos, confirm the temptations, even if it was all pointless. He he tried to keep busy and not think about the flat.


	6. A Purpose: Hastur's Story Continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two: What (or rather who) Hastur finds at the flat and how he rises to the challenge.

Eventually Hastur gave up and went to Crowley's flat. There he’d found his purpose again. Although the other demon was weak he was alive and real.

Suddenly there was a point to things. He would bring Ligur back to strength and get back to Hell. Redeem himself, take his rightful place and make Armageddon happen this time. No mistakes. No Crowley. He would take charge personally. He would find the Antichrist and he would make sure he did it properly this time.

To do that he needed to nurture, to coddle and shield his fellow demon. Prevent Hell from finding him. If they found him in this state he’d be dead. Really dead. He couldn’t defend himself so Hastur would have to do it for him.

Never having cared for anyone before in his entire existence the demon had been a bit stuck on what to do. He was also meant to be working. He couldn’t nurse Ligur, plot a new Armageddon and do Hell’s routine work as well. He needed help.

To this end he’d acquired himself a human. Humans were meant to be good at looking after things, caring for the weak and not slaughtering them. So he figured a human was what he needed.

To begin with the human had been frightened (which was a reasonable reaction given the circumstances) and screamed and cried. He had tried to fight the demon whenever he came near.

After a while the human had seemed to relax, to be more pliant. In fact he had been unconscious a lot and then dead a lot. This was how he’d learned about the importance of food.

The second human he’d captured had told him about that. She’d had the same panicked reaction to begin with and seemed to think he wanted to have sex with her. He reassured her that he only wanted her to help him. The word ‘help’ sticking in his throat somewhat.

She had stopped screaming, but still cried a lot, to begin with anyway. Hastur had been confused, he’d asked her what she needed and got her whatever she said, so she should be happy right? Maybe humans were more complicated than he’d realised.

After a week she had stopped trying to kill him every time he got too close, so he felt it was safe to take her to see Ligur. His fellow demon was wrapped in blankets, still half translucent and clearly unwell. His corporation was barely hanging on, he really needed help. The human had seemed frightened again.

Hastur had already told her he was a demon and so was his ‘partner’. He hadn’t been able to think of a better word, but once he’d said it he quite liked it so had stuck to it. His partner. It implied they belonged together. He liked that.

The human hadn’t seemed to believe he was a demon until a few miracles and his near see-through partner had finally convinced her. He had got quite attached to her over the weeks and she’d certainly helped Ligur. He had almost decided not to kill her when this was all over. Or not kill her in a slow and painful way at least.

Hastur had been surprised to find he quite enjoyed the human company, watching her cook and learning other human things. Crowley had often mentioned these things and he’d always dismissed them. Now he was starting to see the point.

His captive human had shown him how television worked and how he could learn cookery from that ‘so now you can let me go’. Oh how he’d laughed at that. As if he would let her go, just when she was proving so useful.

She’d played music on the radio too and he’d discovered he liked it. Well, he liked some of it. The radios Hell regularly used for contacting their agents seemed able to produce a huge variety of sounds, some of which were very pleasing to listen to.

As he hummed along to My Chemical Romance he watched the human washing the soup bowl and thought about Crowley. He slowly became aware that the human was making noises again. She kept doing that, it was quite annoying. “What’s the matter now human?”

“Told you my name is Amy and what do you think the matter is? You’ve held me hostage for weeks, I haven’t had a change of clothes or a decent night’s sleep, I want to see my family. I’m lonely and miserable and tired” she wailed out the last bit doing that strange watering eye thing.

Hastur felt something weirdly like empathy. He knew how it felt to be lonely and miserable and tired. He hadn’t liked it so why would the human? Maybe he should do something. Something that makes humans feel better.

Amy felt herself grabbed by what she now accepted was a demon. Her entire body tensed. Was this it? Was he finally going to kill her?

Hastur wrapped his arms round the human, holding on tight. Not too tight. He’d discovered the first time he’d tried to capture one that if he held on too tightly they broke. He remembered seeing this on the television. It was called a ‘hug’ and it made humans happy.

“There, there little human. Everything will be ok…. Well if I don’t kill you it will be ok” Hastur was nothing if not honest.

Amy relaxed. He was just being weird again. She’d learned to accept that sometimes her captor did weird things. Like the time he’d come back with a live pig and expected her to make it into dinner.

The human calmed down. Hugging definitely worked. He supposed it was like the way he’d held onto Ligur, only not as hard and without claws. It was quite pleasant actually, calming. There were definitely things worth learning from the humans.

Letting the human go he shook his head. He was starting to go native. Almost enjoying some aspects of being on earth. What he needed to do now was concentrate on getting back on track. With Crowley trapped in a deal he had taken the first step to making that happen.

It made him feel warm inside. Trapping a fellow demon, doing proper evil, felt good. He looked at the human. She was a bit dishevelled. He decided to get her some new clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will be switching POV quite a lot in this. Sorry if it's irritating but I love taking apart the same events from different perspectives. Next chapter we see a bit more from the 1st human character introduced here.


	7. Amy's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit more background to Hastur's and Ligur's new home, along with their captive human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Amy's POV mostly.

The demon went out and Amy breathed a sigh of relief. The other demon, the sick demon, she could handle. He ate soup and slept a lot. When she’d first been brought here, into the room with the barely visible patient, she had almost panicked.

However, Amy was a caring person. Even if he was a demon, she couldn’t let him suffer. There was also the hope that if she looked after him maybe they would let her go. Or at least if he didn’t die maybe the tall thin demon wouldn’t kill her just yet.

She’d examined him and noted his high temperature and emaciated state. Assuming this was a bad thing she’d bought his fever down with damp towels and explained to her captor that he really needed rest and food. He needed a comfortable bed and blankets and pillows. He shouldn’t be left lying on the carpet.

The demon had come back with various items of furniture, a mattress and pillows, from which she’d made a reasonably comfortable bed. Then he’d put down a bag with things he thought were edible. Not all of them were.

In fact some of the things had tried to escape as soon as he opened the bag. Disturbingly the demon burned anything that moved into ashes. Amy shivered, she didn’t want him to do that to her.

She had patiently talked him through how food worked. From that moment on they seemed to have reached an understanding. She would look after the sick demon and the other would look after her. In a manner of speaking anyway.

Amy got given food and left alone long enough for some sleep and sometimes could sit and watch TV or listen to the radio without being interrupted. The tall demon, who seemed to be called Hastur, never slept, which would make escape difficult. The thick steel door with it’s multiple bolts actually made escape impossible at the moment.

The demon also asked a lot of questions, which at least kept her busy. Unfortunately he wasn’t as stupid as she’d first thought and wouldn’t supply her with a phone. She had asked for a computer, hoping she could pick up wi-fi, but he didn’t seem to know what a computer was and she didn’t want to explain in case it gave the game away.

Otherwise he provided pretty much anything she asked for. Although, not wanting to push things, she had kept her requests to a minimum. The demon didn’t seem too good with anything invented in the last few centuries so she’d had to make do with open braziers for heat and cooking.

When it came to lights he’d provided candles, that guttered and dripped and took ages to light. She tried to explain about electricity and light-bulbs, and he’d turned up with some lamps. Unfortunately the electricity for the flat appeared to have been cut off so they didn’t work.

She sent him out again and this time he’d come back with strings of fairy lights. Although they should have batteries he didn’t seem to understand the concept and she discovered they worked without. If he could make the strings of colourful lights work with no batteries she didn’t understand why he couldn’t get the normal lights to work, but he didn’t seem interested when she asked.

The same was true of the television and radio - there was no power to the flat but they worked anyway. It seemed to come down to the demon’s expectation - if he thought something should work then it miraculously did.

Over the weeks she discovered he quite liked certain television programmes and some music on the radio too. She tried her best to keep him away from the History Channel after his scarily intense interest in the holocaust and weapons of war. Something inside her flashed a clear warning that teaching him about weapons of mass destruction would be a very bad idea indeed.

She discovered he liked watching cookery programmes of all sorts and was a fan of murder mysteries of the old fashioned variety - Agatha Christie adaptations, Columbo, Murder She Wrote. A repeat of Jonathan Creek caught his attention and the scheduling for the channel seemed to miraculously change to show the entire first series.

Being a naturally optimistic person she tried to look on the bright side. The longer she spent interacting with him the more the demon seemed to take an interest in human things. He couldn’t keep her here forever surely? People must be looking for her by now. Work would have noticed when she didn’t turn up, her mother must have worried when she didn’t call. Maybe someone would rescue her.

As she was thinking this Hastur came back with several bags of things. He dumped them on the floor: “I got you new clothes” he told her.

Amy looked at the jumbled mess of items. As she sifted through the different sized dresses she noted his expression as he watched. It was almost anxious, like he was concerned about her reaction. She felt a kindly impulse and smiled at him “thank you Hastur”.

The human had just thanked him by name! That felt weird. She’d called him all sorts of things over the weeks but never been grateful and never used his name. Again he felt something weird. It prompted him to say “That’s ok…. Amy”.

He’d used her name! Maybe she was really was getting through to him. As far as she recalled if you were held prisoner you had to get your captors to empathise with you, see you as a human being not just a hostage, that way they’d be less likely to kill you. Perhaps she was getting somewhere.

Hastur was confused by his own reaction. The human seemed happier though and he had found that the less she cried and screamed the more useful she was. So perhaps it was a good thing. He still had a nagging feeling that he was going soft.

Possibly he should just throw her out of the window and start again with another human. He was almost getting attached to this one in a way that felt wrong. Then again, it was a lot of effort to train one up and now he’d just got this one behaving herself he didn’t want to go through all the bother with another one.

He shrugged and left her to sort through the clothes, going back to check on Ligur. Soon as they could sort out Armageddon II she’d be dead anyway and that would be an end to it.


	8. It's All Ok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley gets back to Aziraphale to try to convince him its all ok, but is it really?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to give an insight into how both are feeling - there’s definitely a bit of a breach between the two following on from the breaking of the New Arrangement.

Back at the bookshop Aziraphale had stopped crying. He'd flipped the closed sign and tried to interest himself in a book.

It wasn't working. His mind kept drifting back to Crowley. Sometimes, if he wasn't concentrating, he managed to forget they'd argued. That was when he'd start planning dinner. They could go out. Maybe that Korean BBQ place, the demon had seemed to like that. Something about the open fire had appealed.

Then he'd remember the argument and be hit by a new wave of despair. It wasn't fair. He wanted to get on with Crowley. He wanted to be friends. His best friend. His only friend really. The tears started again.

The angel pulled himself together. Crowley had gone, but he wouldn't have gone far. Maybe he should go after him. Then again, maybe he needed space. Space and time to calm down.

Aziraphale sighed heavily. He decided not to try to reach him. Not to call, or go to the Mayfair flat. At least not for a few days. Give him time.

It wasn't easy. All he wanted to do was make it alright again. He didn't know how, didn't care really. Anything to just draw a line under it and start again. He wanted Crowley back so badly.

When he thought about it he decided Crowley was right. He shouldn’t have interfered. He had agreed not to and he should have stuck by that. It would have been painful, against his nature, against every fibre of his being in fact. However, he had agreed not to interfere, it was their ‘New Arrangement’ and he shouldn’t have broken it should he?

He didn’t work for heaven anymore and he shouldn’t behave like he still did. It might be in his nature to ‘do good’, to try to help people, but they’d agreed not to. Somehow it didn’t feel right to just abandon his fellow creatures to needless suffering, but wasn’t that what he’d agreed to do?

He wasn’t entirely sure whether he had done the wrong thing, but he resolved to apologise anyway. Then everything would be ok wouldn’t it? This time he would stick to the New Arrangement however much it hurt.

It was several hours later when there came a hesitant knock on the bookshop door. He nearly ignored it, but something made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He thought it was a demon.

Crowley was a demon. Even though they were friends he still elicited the usual angelic reaction. A kind of shivery feeling down his spine. Like someone was dragging fingernails down his back. Gently, very gently, but enough to make him tremble. It must be Crowley.

The door opened. The demon saw immediately that his angel had been crying. His first reaction was anger. How dare someone upset him like this. Then he remembered.

He, Crowley, he was the one who had upset him. Without speaking, without even thinking, he stepped inside taking Aziraphale's hand.

"It's ok angel. It's ok" he murmured, taking the other into an embrace. They hugged and the angel sobbed "I'm sorry, you were right, I'm sorry".

Crowley pulled back to look the other in the eye. "It's ok, really it is ok, everything is alright. Let’s not argue over this it’s silly". He meant most of what he'd said.

What did it matter, the little lie, the tiny omission? It was only ok because he was going to even up the score. He’d get his own back and the angel wouldn’t even know. In fact that made it better. Aziraphale had done good sneakily behind his back and now he would do evil sneakily behind the angel’s back. That was fair wasn’t it? Only making things even.

The angel didn't need to know that though. All he wanted was to know it was ok. So that's what Crowley said. He said it over and over, until finally he was believed.

It's all ok, nothing to worry about. No argument. Friends again. No malice, no hangover or bitterness. All sorted. They hugged and Crowley tried to pretend he wasn't deceiving his best friend.

He should have felt bad, but he didn't. Some spark of the demonic was still alive inside of him. Lit by Hastur it burned resentfully.

No, it hadn't been lit by Hastur. It had already been there. Smouldering in the background. A deep seated resentment of heaven, of Her and of angels in general.

He was a demon. Unforgivable. He wasn't nice, people shouldn't like him. Angels even less so.

In the perfect picture postcard life of bookshops and cocoa and cottages on the South Downs he was the bit that didn't fit. Try as he may, he was a demon and demons didn't retire, happy and contented, to catalogue medieval manuscripts.

For the first time since the failed Armageddon he felt the difference between them. The real, unbridgeable difference. He was, whatever he may like to pretend, still a demon and Aziraphale was still an angel.

He'd shown that in his desire to do good. Still there, even after their New Arrangement. The unstoppable angel's impulse to help people.

Well, he had the opposite. It wasn't just Hastur's prompting. He had been feeling bored before then. He liked causing trouble, it came naturally to him. Without that there was no challenge and nothing to do.

Apart from help out in a bookshop. Was that really what he'd become? A shop assistant? He may not have fallen in spectacular fashion but he was more than a retail skivvie. He was a demon.

There, he'd said it. Only he hadn't said it, not out loud. It reverberated round his head though, loud enough surely for those outside to hear. For Aziraphale to hear, surely he must hear it?

The angel smiled at him. He was so happy. So pleased the demon had come back. Of course the thoughts in the other’s head weren’t known to him, but Crowley took it that they were. The angel knew, must know, that he was up to something. It was in his nature after all.

They went for dinner at the Korean BBQ place and Crowley toasted thin slices of steak on the grill pretending they were sinners burning in Hell.

Aziraphale continued smiling happily, almost like he didn’t know what Crowley was thinking, which he didn’t of course, but by now the demon had decided he did.

The angel had given tacit approval for his plan. It was no longer a nasty sneaky trick he was playing on his friend. He knew about and approved the plan. He might not say so out loud, but the thoughts were so loud he must have heard them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have a few unresolved thoughts on this chapter - is the problem of Hastur’s making or is it something about being a demon (even a relatively decent demon) that means Crowley isn’t content? Was the New Arrangement ever going to work? Wasn’t it unfair from the beginning to expect Aziraphale to watch while others suffered? Are both, neither or just one of them in the wrong?


	9. I Love It When (an evil) Plan Comes Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We jump back a bit to Hastur’s shopping trip and more from his POV, including an insight into what he thinks is ‘pretty’. Also a bit around how Hastur and Ligur interact and a thought from Amy.

Somewhere nearby Hastur stood in an alleyway smiling. His black eyes shone as he fed the demon’s inner desire for the angel’s approval. Crowley was so receptive to the insidious influence he hardly had to try.

‘The angel must know what he was planning, he wasn’t stupid, how could he not know? It was alright, it wasn’t deceiving him, it wasn’t a betrayal, it was only fair’. Hastur kept up a steady stream of justifications, of fabricated approval from the angel, so very very easy.

Finally he sighed happily and wandered off to find a department store to steal new clothes for the human. Something in green he thought. She’d look nice in green.

Aziraphale shifted in his seat, suddenly slightly uncomfortable. There was something in the air, just a hint of the demonic. Not Crowley’s demonic, something more subtle and dangerous. A temptation in the air, someone nearby was being invited to do evil, persuaded it was ok, nothing to worry about.

He caught the edge of the thought ‘only fair’ and for a second it seemed to find an echo in his demon’s head. Then it was gone.

Weirdly it was replaced with what sounded like a shopping list: ‘green dress, gloves, boots’. Also something definitely un-demonic - a kindly impulse. It came from the same direction as the insidious whispers. An altruistic desire to do something just to make someone else happy.

The angel shook his head to clear it of the static. It was probably just a human thinking intensely. Sometimes their thoughts were so loud he couldn’t help but overhear.

Certainly a demon wouldn’t be wandering around Soho trying to tempt another demon and in the same breath going on a shopping spree to make someone happy. It didn’t make sense.

Hastur was pleased. The plan was coming together. Crowley would do Hell’s routine work, the human would look after Ligur and he was free to pursue his plans for Armageddon II. It felt good.

He considered what clothes to get for the human - a green dress, some gloves and boots too. He’d noticed she only had little thin soled feet coverings. Not sensible boots like he had and no gloves at all, her hands must get cold. Yes, he’d get her something sturdier, sensible boots and a nice dress and warm gloves. That would make her happy.

Hastur stopped mid-thought. He’d felt something odd just then. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was. It was almost like that moment in the flat when he’d felt like he understood what the human was feeling and felt sorry for her. It was an off note in his otherwise evil brain. Something was wrong.

He shrugged it off, he was a demon, things were meant to feel wrong around him. He continued up to Oxford Street and wandered around a few shops putting things he liked the look of into a couple of bin bags. For some reason the security guards and the cameras all happened to be looking the other way as he did this. 

There was a vividly green dress with lots of little shiny things sewn onto it that he thought was very pretty. That would look good on the human. He picked various sizes off the rack and shoved them in the bags then walked out of the store. The alarm miraculously did not go off.

Back at the flat he dumped the clothes down for the human to sort through. He felt the weird thing again as he watched her and they exchanged remarks. He shrugged it off, going to check on Ligur instead.

The other demon was looking a bit better again. He was mostly visible and could almost sit up on his own now. Hastur sat down next to him and took his hand. He looked at his now ‘partner’ and smiled. An evil looking grin with too many, too sharp teeth and a definite air of menace about it.

Ligur felt his hand being taken and looked up to see Hastur grinning at him. He knew that expression and it usually meant trouble. It warmed him. As did the physical contact. The human might feed him and give him those little pink tablets whenever he hurt, but he was sure Hastur was the reason he was feeling better.

“Wassup Hast?” The blond demon grinned even wider, his sharp teeth showing threateningly.

“Crowley’s hooked. Trapped him in the deal and got him to think he’s only being fair. With that human lookin’ after you I can go find the Antichrist and get Armageddon II under-way”.

Ligur frowned. He’d rather Hastur looked after him than the human. She might be fairly good at it, and her soup didn’t taste so sickly sweet, but Hastur was the one who made him feel better.

“Do you have to go?” he asked, a suggestion of disappointment in his voice.

“Dunt have to go yet” Hastur hastened to say, squeezing Ligur’s hand a little harder. The two sat silently for a while, just looking at each other. This was something Hastur had really missed. No conversation, no need to do anything, just sit quiet and be in the other’s company. It felt good.

From the doorway Amy watched the two of them. They didn’t behave like she’d expected demons to. Holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes. It was weird. The tall demon obviously cared a lot about the other and it was clear the sick demon cared too. It was quite sweet really.

She washed out her underwear in the sink and, once it dried, changed into the new clothes. They weren’t exactly what she’d have chosen. Actually that was a bit of an understatement. He’d got her a bright green, satin prom-dress with lots of sequins, fingerless woollen gloves and Wellington boots. They were clean at least.

Despite the strangeness of the outfit Amy thought it best to go along with it. The provision of clothes was the first time the demon had seemed concerned about her reaction. Like he cared what she thought of the gifts.

She decided it was a good idea to be happy and grateful as that seemed to be what he wanted and she wanted to keep him onside. Maybe if she did what he wanted he’d let her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Hastur is still evil, but the strange impulse to get Amy a new dress was quite sweet - wasn’t it?
> 
> Still unsure of the plot direction - kind of have an ending in mind…but it keeps going off track as I muse on the various relationships - of which there will be more (more relationships and more musings).


	10. The Ex-Antichrist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing ‘grown up’ Adam - How has the world been treating the ex-Antichrist?

Adam Young did not consider himself ‘young’ anymore. It was less than a year since he’d been a ‘child’, but a lot had happened. He felt like he was now an adult and should be treated and respected as such.

In his new found maturity he looked back over his youth. He had had, he supposed, a happy childhood. The memories he had were all of idyllic summers spent running wild in the woods with his friends. Playing hide and seek and jumping in muddy ponds to cool down.

What he did have was a bit of a blank in the summer before he started secondary school. He remembered the start of the summer. It had started like all the other summers. He remembered getting a dog for his birthday too.

It was a happy time, a carefree time, everything had seemed right. Then things had gone fuzzy. By the end of the summer it had started raining. It had never rained in the summer before, as far as he remembered.

Then he’d started secondary school and discovered his best friends were at different schools. He couldn’t really understand it, they all lived in the same village surely they should all have been at the same school?

However, the big town wasn’t too far away so there were more choices than he’d have thought. Wensleydale had passed some sort of exam to go to a posh school. Pepper’s mother had decided to home-school to avoid the inherent patriarchy of the local comprehensive. Brian’s parents had sent him to the church school. Adam had just gone to the normal, boring local school. Nothing special about it. Nothing special about him either it seemed.

For the first time in his life Adam had found himself a member of the group instead of being its leader. It was like all the wonderful adventures of childhood had finished. The magic had died and real life had come crashing down on top of him.

It felt like it had been a momentous summer. Certainly nothing would ever be the same again. It was as if there had been some sort of big event, something that had happened to change everything, but he couldn’t quite remember what.

The missing time had only been a few days, maybe a week at most, but it felt significant. If only he could remember what it was that felt so important, so momentous that it had changed everything that came after it, but he couldn’t.

In his mind Adam had drawn a line after that summer. One side of the line was childhood, the other was the rest of his life. His normal, boring life. Nothing magical or wonderful this side of the line.

The final sign that things had changed came when there was no snow at Christmas. It was such a little thing, but somehow it crystallised what had been in his mind for a while. Things were different now. In his mind he wasn’t a child anymore and the world wasn’t as wonderful as it had always seemed. He had crossed the line into adulthood.

This side of the line was hard work. Friends that he only really spoke to on-line, worrying about whether his clothes looked right, if his hair was the right style, if he would be teased for not fitting in. Homework, exams, careers advice. Worrying about the future instead of enjoying the present.

Even his home life had changed. He had been used to his mum being at home when he got back from school, baking biscuits and cakes, family meals around the dining table. Then his dad’s hours had been cut and his mum had started working to make up the shortfall.

In all his younger years money had never figured as a problem. It was something that rich people had and, he supposed, poor people didn’t. He was somewhere in the middle. Not rich enough for jets and indoor swimming pools but not poor enough to think about it.

Now it was an issue. They had food on the table, a roof over their heads and the bills were paid. They still weren’t poor, but they were no longer in the middle. It felt like his family had drifted down the scale. They didn’t have roasts for Sunday dinner anymore, he couldn’t always get new clothes when he needed them. The car had broken down and hadn’t been repaired. His parents got the bus now.

As they were both working, and often late back due to the infrequent rural bus service, he had to learn to fend for himself. Beans on toast for dinner, or cheap takeaway chicken in a cardboard box.

The village had changed to. The modern world had caught up with it. The woodlands had become a hotspot for fly-tipping, the local village shop had closed and a garage with a mini-supermarket attached had opened instead.

After that summer everything had changed. Like a bubble had burst and the real world had flooded in. It seemed so long ago, but it was less than a year.

He thought back fondly to his childhood. The real childhood before that last fateful summer. When he had been carefree and happy for the last time. What had happened to stop that? What choice had he made that had caused his world to come crashing down?

He was sure it was something he’d done. Or maybe something he hadn’t done. A choice he had made that he could have made differently. What would have happened if he’d done something different?

He thought he must have made the wrong choice or things would have worked out better somehow. If only he could remember, put it right. This time he wouldn’t make the wrong choice.

Unbeknownst to him there was someone working to ensure he did have the choice again and that this time he could make it right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Adam - the ‘too good to be true’ world of Tadfield couldn’t last... Although maybe he'll have a shot at getting it back....


	11. Caring and Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur finds himself comforting his captive before heading off to try to further his evil plans. Earth is having an effect on him though….

A certain tall thin someone with wild blond hair and a cruel expression in his blank, black eyes was working to giving Adam that very choice.

The cruel expression was actually misleading. As it happened he wasn’t being cruel at the moment at all. He was currently trying cheer up a crying woman in a sequinned dress.

A sequinned dress with soup spilt all down the front from where he’d surprised her and she’d dropped the ladle. He hadn’t meant to surprise her, but something about him was built to be sneaky and stealthy, he couldn’t help it.

Amy was tired and emotional. She was getting close to the limits of her reserves and when the demon had suddenly appeared behind her she’d had a moment of panic. This had resulted in the soup spillage.

The reason it had made her cry was that, in her mind at least, the dress was a symbol. It was a symbol of the way the demon had started to see her as a person, not an expendable hostage. A person with feelings and needs who he might, one day, release back into the world unharmed.

Spilling soup all over it felt like she’d just destroyed her hopes of escape. She’d destroyed the only sign that he didn’t want to kill her.

Hastur was confused. This was happening to him a lot lately and that in itself added to his confusion. He was a demon of certainties. He didn’t worry about the ins and outs of things. He just did his job and left a trail of evil in his wake. Happily despoiling, corrupting and killing with no qualms. Only now things were a little different.

He was still working for Hell, but he’d farmed out the actual work bit to Crowley. He was still working towards Armageddon, but this wasn’t Hell’s plan now, so technically it wasn’t meant to be his job. He was also caring for a sick demon and trying to comfort an upset human. It was new territory.

Usually when he got confused he killed things, or set them on fire, or killed them by setting them on fire. For some reason he didn’t think this was a good solution this time.

“No need to be making those noises human. It looks better with the soup, prettier” he was trying to stop her crying but wasn’t sure how. For some reason he didn’t understand she thought the dress was spoilt by having soup down it and that this was a bad thing.

He tried again. “Please stop Amy, you’ll wake up Ligur and he needs his rest”. She stopped crying. He wasn’t sure why it had worked this time. He was glad it had though as he needed to go out and didn’t want to leave Ligur alone with her while she was in this state.

Amy had stopped crying because he had used her name, because he had said ‘please’, because he was so obviously concerned. It felt like progress.

Hastur breathed a sigh of relief. That was another thing he’d noticed. He seemed to have started breathing on a regular basis. It was something he’d always done occasionally, well you had to if you were going to smoke successfully, but not like this.

He’d almost caught himself falling asleep too. The human seemed to sleep a lot and Ligur slept a lot too, so it was starting to feel a bit odd that he didn’t. He felt like he ought to sleep to fit in with the other two, along with the breathing and even eating. Being on earth was changing him.

Leaving the human to look after Ligur he set off into the world. Before he did so he changed his clothes. He’d been utterly indifferent to clothes until he’d encountered the humans on a regular basis. He’d suddenly noticed that his clothes were subtly different to ordinary human clothes and worried they might make him stand out.

While he had made a cursory examination of what humans wore and acquired a suit and coat that seemed to roughly fit in, that had been many years ago and he hadn’t thought to update them. When he’d asked his human, 'Amy' he remembered, she had told him that he did look a bit scruffy, even dirty.

He wasn’t sure how to process this information and, at first, had been a bit upset. He didn’t like to think he looked scruffy. He was a professional demon, he had chosen a suit to look like a smart business human.

Amy had gently told him that if he wanted to look professional he probably needed newer clothes, ones without holes and certainly not covered in dirt. She had put the television on again and pointed out several of the humans on it suggesting he should try something more like that.

Hastur had cocked his head to one side and asked suspiciously “this isn’t a joke is it?” She had hastened to tell him that it wasn’t and he’d gone out to find newer clothes. He now had a new suit. It was grey with something Amy called pinstripe and fitted miraculously well. He felt like a new demon.

Outside, in his new suit, he’d noticed that fewer of the humans stared at him strangely. He seemed to be fitting in better. This was good. He had also got Amy to explain about modern money. He knew how it worked in theory, but the bits of paper they seemed to use had confused him. He was used to gold.

Amy had patiently talked him through how the numbers on the paper corresponded to a notional value in gold and meant that people could carry around much lighter wallets. It made sense he supposed.

As he got nearer to Soho he stopped off at a coffee shop - another thing he’d had to ask Amy about when she’d requested ‘coffee’ for the flat. At first taste he had decided he liked it. He liked it a lot in fact. Lots of strong espresso with so much sugar it didn’t dissolve properly. The one he liked was called a quadruple espresso.

He had been to this coffee place a few times. The human behind the counter smiled at him. She'd asked his name the first time he'd come in, writing a misspelled version on the little cup, but never bothered again. She seemed to remember him for some reason.

“Quadruple espresso with fifteen sachets of sugar again Mr Hastur?” she asked smiling.

He smiled back, handing over one of the notes and waving away the collection of little metal discs the woman always tried to give him in return. He only wanted the coffee. She smiled even wider “thank you Mr Hastur”.

“It’s just Hastur actually, errm” he stopped and the human indicated a badge on her apron. He read it out loud “hello-my-name-is-liz”. The human laughed saying “It’s just Liz actually”.

Looking up into her eyes and smiling face he felt something warm and smiled back at her saying “ok just Liz”. This time they both laughed, although he wasn’t sure why.

He ripped open the sachets and tipped the contents into his espresso, swirling the little cup round. He remembered to put the paper the sugar had been wrapped in into the little flap thing under the counter. That had seemed to make the coffee-human happy the first time he’d done it so he’d carried on doing it. 

The impulse to see her happy unnerved him, but he justified it as a sensible ploy - it was best to keep the person giving you stuff to drink happy in case they poisoned you. Having resolved this in his own mind he left the coffee shop.

Walking out he noticed the sun had come out. It was very bright and the light hurt his eyes. Maybe there was something in those glasses Crowley had worn. He might need to get some if he was going to be outside a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another human character - who will be in it for a bit - I’m a sucker for the interactions between demons/humans, especially featuring wonderful Hastur who doesn’t entirely ‘get it’. Perhaps it’s the novelty of trying to see the world through new eyes?? Although I don’t think quadruple espressos are a good idea, however tempting!


	12. Delegation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for Crowley to go to work….. and for Hastur to check up on him
> 
> Some temptations in this chapter and a bit more about Hastur’s approach to collecting souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still writing on this one.... it's shaping up but still needs a lot of work and my brain's tendency to head off in unexpected directions is starting to annoy even me...

Crowley had almost managed to forget about his ‘deal’ with Hastur. It wasn’t really something he wanted to remember. Now that he was away from the other demon and back being friends with his angel he somehow didn’t feel the same burning need to get even.

He was content. Aziraphale had told him many many times that he was sorry and wouldn’t do it again. So much so that it had started to annoy him. If the angel was going to stop doing good then how did he justify doing bad?

He needed him to continue to break their agreement so he could feel good about getting his secret revenge. It felt all wrong. Why did he want revenge again? It had stopped making sense some time ago. In fact he’d been having second thoughts from the moment he’d left the flat.

Too late now though. When he came downstairs one morning to a faint aroma of sulphur and a packet of parchment tied round with what looked like cat-gut he knew for certain that it was too late.

The temptations listed were, as Hastur had promised, small stuff. Tempting an office worker to pinch some stationery, a cyclist to run a red light. Nothing out of the ordinary. Minor lapses from the straight and narrow.

Of course in the grand scheme of things all the little breaches added up. As far as he recalled the idea was a 'domino effect'. Each tiny infraction, insignificant on its own, was supposed to lead to the next. An unstoppable chain reaction that would inevitably lead to a soul being claimed for their 'master'.

Crowley had never been convinced by this. He'd been around people for long enough to know how unpredictable they were. One transgression didn't necessarily lead to another. The humans could do a dozen truly evil deeds before breakfast, then turn it around by lunch.

Perhaps his scepticism made him easier in his own mind about 'doing evil'. He could tell himself that, over all, he could never make that much difference. Sure, annoying a few people, making them angry, upset or surreptitiously dishonest in a minor way was technically evil, but only technically.

The humans did the real evil, they were the ones with the imaginations. They could really hurt each other in ways Hell couldn't even dream of. Luckily Hell had never really paid that much attention. He shuddered to think what they would have risen to...sunk to... if they'd decided to learn from the humans.

Meanwhile the guy driving the car that nearly hit the cyclist screamed at his wife sat in the passenger seat. She glared at him silently. That was the last straw. She'd been thinking about it before, but decided to give it one more go. A last chance. If they could get through this weekend without arguing she would stay, if not she would leave him.

The husband realised his wife wasn't listening. Again. He'd been watching her for a while now. He was sure she was having an affair, was planning on leaving him. Well, that wasn't going to happen. He'd kill her rather than let her go to another man. He was going to watch her carefully now, first sign of a bag being packed, or her getting her passport from the safe, well he'd know what to do.

In two days both would be dead. Her from murder, him from suicide. Although she wasn't having an affair she'd amassed enough minor sins to send her down. Her husband, well no matter how much 'good' he'd done as director of a children's charity, he was a murderer and a suicide now. Two more souls for the master thanks to Crowley.

You see, the thing about Hastur's temptations was that they were focused. Precision interventions at just the right moment. A tiny little push here, the merest suggestion there and that was enough. It was an art form, craftsmanship. Everything worked out in advance. None of the vague 'annoy a bunch of people and maybe they'll do evil on their own' tactic Crowley favoured. He singled out his targets and took them down individually, like a sniper.

The red headed demon had no real appreciation for this approach. Picking off souls one at a time just seemed so dreadfully inefficient, so fourteenth century, why bother? However, it was the personal touch that made it truly evil.

If he'd had the inclination to follow the ripples he'd created, see the effect of the butterfly flapping its wings, he might have really regretted his deal with Hastur. These were just the sort of nasty, mean little things that would really upset Aziraphale if he ever found out. They were so personal. The consequences of his interventions clear and unpleasant for anyone who had the inclination to look.

Crowley didn't have the inclination. In fact he had actually started to enjoy the seemingly insignificant prompts and nudges he was giving the unsuspecting humans.

One evening he was sat with Aziraphale, enjoying his wine and talking about trying the new Greek restaurant on the corner. Suddenly he got a shivery feeling. Something wasn't quite right.

While Aziraphale chatted on about souvlaki and charcoal grilled pitta he looked around trying to locate the source of the feeling. Hastur, that was the source. He could taste his aura in the air.

It took him a few seconds spot him. This was down to the clothes. He was used to Hastur looking like he'd not changed his suit in a decade (it was actually much longer), but now he was wearing a rather dapper grey pinstripe. He almost looked stylish.

The demon was stood in the alley opposite the bookshop watching him. Crowley rolled his eyes in irritation and the angel stopped talking about food. "Whatever's the matter my dear?" He asked looking concerned.

Ooops. Nearly gave the game away there. He focused back on his companion. "Errr nothing, no problem, everything is fine, just thinking about that roast garlic hummus, sounds lovely".

Aziraphale was off again, different hummus options, the plumpness of the olives and how they made their own feta. Crowley nodded fervently, trying his hardest to appear to be paying attention while at the same time keep an eye on Hastur.

"Right then, let's go then" he cut the angel off mid-sentence.

"Oh, err, yes, yes. I'll just get my jacket" his companion was a little flustered, but clearly wanted to go to the restaurant so wasn't going to question his demon's sudden decision.

"I'll just be outside.... waiting... I'll wait outside. Yes" he babbled pushing himself through the door before Aziraphale could say anything. Once outside he rushed across the road to speak to Hastur.

"What the heaven do you think you're doing? He might see you". Hastur just looked at him with his expressionless black eyes. Finally he cleared his throat and said "I need an update. Gotta get the forms back to Dagon".

"The forms...?" He prompted. Hastur continued to stare. Having got used to humans and their frequent blinking Crowley's eyes were starting to prickle in sympathy. He blinked a couple of times, not that Hastur could appreciate this due to his dark glasses.

"Yes. The forms" the tall demon confirmed. Crowley frowned. He knew he was doing Hell's work, but the mention of forms really bought it home.

"Hey, it's been a while since I did any paperwork y'know? Temptations: easy, done no problem....but all those forms!" He waved a hand vaguely in the air to signify frustration at excessive bureaucracy.

"It's alright, I'll do the paperwork, I just need the details off you". Crowley was immediately suspicious. Why would Hastur offer to do anything for him?

It was as if the tall demon read his thoughts (which he actually had done - what did he expect thinking that loudly?). "I gotta sign 'em. Don't trust you to complete the forms if I gotta sign 'em. Unless you want me to make it official with Beelzebub?"

"No!" He virtually shouted, looking back to the bookshop in case Aziraphale had come out yet. He was getting a bit panicky now so quickly gave Hastur a time and place where they could meet up and go through the details.

As the redhead sauntered off to pretend he'd been waiting patiently outside for the angel Hastur grinned to himself. So, the temptations had been done. More souls for his master and he hadn't had to lift a finger.

There was a word for this way of working. Hastur tried to remember it: 'delegating' that was it. It meant getting someone else to do your job while you sat back and pretended you still had work to do. He liked it.

Having ensured his demonic work was all in hand he wandered off to begin his search for the former Antichrist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rather like writing up temptations and trying to come up with something suitable for Hastur without making it too ‘big’ or obviously ‘evil’ so Crowley can enjoy it…. and I hate cyclists jumping lights, maybe if they realise they could end up sending souls to Hell with their inconsiderate behaviour they’ll stop… lol


	13. Catching A Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur begins his search for the Antichrist - which involves getting a train. He is starting to learn a bit more about the humans and earth by this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do like writing Hastur learning about earth and humans - not sure whether anyone else approves, but I’m enjoying myself! There’s quite a bit in this vein…..

Hastur assumed that, once he’d decided to begin his quest to locate the ex-Antichrist, it would be simple. However, now he *could* start, he realised that he had no idea *how* to start.

His plan had been to go back to the nunnery and begin there. He wasn’t even sure how to get there. His preferred method of travel was to sink down to Hell and rise up again in approximately the right place. However, he didn’t think he’d be very welcome back in Hell.

His other option would be to use a demonic miracle to simply transport himself to the location. However, he really didn’t want to draw attention to his movements. Hell had an official policy of non-interference with the traitor and his angel and with the former Antichrist. He was still Satan’s son after all - it was up to their master to deal with him and he was off limits to any other demon.

That left human transport. He knew cars were a thing people used to get around, but had no intention of getting anywhere near another one of those. Even if he did have the inclination to find a car he would then have to work out how to make them move. He had a hazy recollection of Crowley’s car and seemed to recall it had a lot of controls, none of which he understood.

In his vague recollections of his previous times on earth humans had had horses and carts but he couldn’t see any. He reluctantly had to admit he had no idea what to do. Giving up he had asked Amy.

Amy was surprised, she would have thought demons could move about anywhere they wanted to. To be asked how to get to Oxfordshire by means of human transport was unexpected. “You could get the train” she suggested. She then had to explain what a train was.

Hastur was unsure, this ‘train’ thing sounded suspiciously similar to a car, only bigger. It had one of those engines in it and went very fast by the sound of it. Amy reassured him that trains were very safe, they ran on ‘rails’ which seemed to mean that the couldn’t veer off and drive through giant walls of fire, so that was reassuring.

Arriving at Paddington he looked around. It was a huge building with a very high ceiling made of glass. It was noisy and busy and everyone seemed to know where they were going and what they were doing. Hastur sighed. This reminded him why he didn’t like human things. He wasn’t happy in this sort of environment.

Looking around he saw some display boards with lots of names of places on them and times and platform numbers. Amy had said he had to go to a platform to get a train and there appeared to be trains parked at numbered areas that he assumed were the platforms. So far it made sense.

The problem came with Amy’s other instruction, which was that he had to buy a ‘ticket’, which was apparently a bit of paper that said where you were going and how much you’d paid. There didn’t seem to be anyone selling tickets that he could see. 

He was getting frustrated and annoyed at being jostled by all the people. Suddenly he felt a hand on his arm - was this some sort of attack?

“Do you want any help?” asked a friendly sounding voice. Hastur spun round and saw a youngish looking human. He had long hair and a large bag attached to his back with straps.

“I need a ticket to get to Oxfordshire” he almost shouted at the man. To his credit the young man just smiled back and said “sure, I can show you how the machines work”. He wandered off beckoning for Hastur to follow him.

The demon was surprised at the word ‘machine’. He knew what they were, but didn’t think they’d help him get a ticket. As far as he recalled machines were big noisy things that humans put in huge buildings to help them with things like weaving cloth.

The box thing with a screen on it didn’t look like his idea of a machine. The screen was like a television but didn’t seem to have any moving pictures, just writing. The helpful human was poking at the screen and asking him which station he needed. There didn’t appear to be one called Oxfordshire so he settled for Oxford.

“Do you have a card?” helpful-human asked. Hastur was confused again, he didn’t like all this confusion. Why would he need a bit of cardboard to buy a ticket? Instead of answering he pulled out a handful of the money notes and shoved them towards helpful-human.

The man sighed inwardly. Although he was naturally a helpful sort of person he was getting a bit fed up of all these foreign tourists who didn’t know the basics of how to get around. He wondered where this one had come from and how he had managed this far without a bank card.

Instead of inviting further conversation he took the right amount of notes and fed them in the slot. Showing the man where the ticket and his change came out. The difficulty came with the change, the man simply wouldn’t take it, kept shoving it back at him or trying to put it back in the machine. He was a bit embarrassed that he seemed to want to tip him for helping buy a ticket, but in the end gave up, shrugging and pocketing the coins.

Hastur was still confused. Helpful-human seemed confused too. He kept saying “there’s no need. Really no need” when he tried to get him to put the little metal discs back. He was going to have to ask Amy about these, they seemed to be everywhere.

He followed helpful-human as he walked back to the boards with names on and gave him something of a shock when he poked his arm. “What next?” he asked. Helpful-human sighed, it sounded like he was getting a bit annoyed, but he patiently pointed at the board and told him that was his train - which Hastur didn’t understand: it was clearly just a board with some writing not a train at all. Then helpful-human pointed out the platform and told him he needed to go there.

Luckily there was another human at the gate who demonstrated how to feed his ticket into a little slot that opened a gate for him to walk through. The humans seemed to have come up with a whole lot of new stuff since he’d last been on earth. They were quite clever really.

He got on the train and found a seat. It didn’t seem to be going anywhere. He got up and walked around for a bit, following the smell of coffee to another part of the train. There was a counter and it looked like he could buy coffee so he asked for his usual. The human behind the counter scowled at him saying “we only do instant”.

Hastur shrugged and just shoved a note towards the scowling human who huffed at him and turned to make coffee. It didn’t seem like the coffee that coffee-human made. Oh well, he thought taking a big handful of the sugar sachets and the proffered cup.

Scowling-human tried to give him a handful of the little metal discs again and this time he took them shoving them into his coat pocket. He didn’t like scowling-human so decided he wouldn’t let him keep the little discs as keeping the little discs seemed to make humans happy and he didn’t want to make this one happy.

The coffee - despite all signs to the contrary - miraculously tasted exactly like a quadruple espresso. Hastur smiled to himself and found another seat. Hopefully the train would start soon.


	14. Sister Loquacious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur continues his search and actually finds an ex-nun - wonder if he’ll get any useful information though?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did warn you there would be a bit more of naive Hastur learning about new things. I think he’s coping quite well tbh….. Some more Hastur cuteness coming up next chapter too!

The train started with a jerk. Hastur grabbed onto the arm of his chair as it started speeding up. Through the window he could see the station disappearing and more rails appearing to the side of the train he was sat on. Then he really jumped as another train appeared to be hurtling along right next to them.

Luckily it didn’t crash and he saw how the wheels stuck to the metal rails, following them off to a slightly different direction to his train. That made him feel a bit better about things. Rather, it made him feel better until he realised the train he was on was still speeding up.  
  
It seemed to be flying through the countryside now, the hedges and trees either side were almost blurred by the speed of its movement. Hastur clung onto the arm of the seat watching wide-eyed. Amy had said it was safe but going this fast he really doubted it. The last time he’d gone anywhere at this sort of speed had been when he’d been in the car with Crowley, and the only other time was when he’d fallen from Heaven. Neither situation had ended well.  
  
He decided to close his eyes for a bit. The train swayed slightly as it moved along and, even with closed eyes, he couldn’t rid himself of the sense of danger. Opening his eyes again he saw real countryside - cows in the fields and greenery as far as he could see. He relaxed a little, this was better than the city, more like what he remembered earth being like.  
  
As he was thinking this the surroundings changed to yet more buildings. Was this another city? How many did the humans have? He’d thought that London was maybe the only one - or perhaps each ‘country’ had their own (he remembered the humans had divided up the earth into little bits called countries and sometimes fought huge wars over who had the nicest bit).  
  
There came a loud voice out of nowhere saying ‘Slough’ and the train was slowing. This didn’t look like how he remembered the church and the nunnery so they couldn’t be in Oxfordshire yet. The train stopped and he watched as more humans got on. One tried to sit next to him and he growled aggressively showing unnaturally sharp teeth. They moved on to another seat.  
  
The train stopped again at ‘Reading’ and more people got on, some got off too. He glared at anyone who came near his seat and soon he was the only one without someone sat next to him. Finally the train arrived at ‘Oxford’. Yet another city he observed gloomily. He got off the train.  
  
Hastur was quite pleased that he knew how to put the ticket in the little slot to open the gate. He even told another human what to do too, then realised that he’d been helpful and that was definitely undemonic. He wiggled a finger at the retreating human making the plastic oblong, with the screen he had been looking at a moment before, slip out of his pocket and smash on the ground. The human swore loudly and Hastur felt a bit better.

Once off the train he wasn't sure what to do. He screwed up his eyes trying to remember the name of the church where he'd handed the baby over. He and Ligur had had to wait for Crowley for hours and he recalled there was a name on the board.

Having recalled the name (‘Saint Jude’ - the name tasting unpleasant on his tongue) he decided to ask one of the humans milling about nearby how to get there. The human was friendly but had no idea where the church was. However, they told him where a 'tourist information office' and said they'd be able to help.

They did help and he found the church only just over a mile's walk away. There was a priest at the church. Hastur swallowed his distaste and asked him about the old nunnery and got yet more helpful directions, including information about something called a bus.

Apparently buses were what the little metal discs were for - you posted them into a little box and got a ticket. The bus seemed like a big car, but having gained in confidence from the train he decided to risk it. It was going pretty slowly anyway, which was a relief.

When he thought about it he was surprised by how all these humans seemed to act. His main experience of earth had been from temptations, well, the occasional fire or murder too, but mainly temptations. So his view was of a weak little species just waiting for an excuse to go to the bad. He wasn’t expecting them to be helpful and friendly.

He was also reluctantly impressed by all this technology. The trains and buses seemed pretty efficient, all these new small machines that did lots of stuff for them, computers and phones he hadn’t got a handle on yet but he’d seen people using them. He wasn’t sure whether they were computers or phones, the humans talked into them sometimes, but they also had screens and they stared at them like they were televisions. That was the other thing he liked: television. He’d learned a lot about earth from television.

The driver of the bus shouted to him that this was his stop and he got off. Another helpful human he noted and wondered why so many of them ended up in Hell as they seemed to be naturally nice rather than evil as he’d expected.

Looking up he saw the nunnery wasn’t a nunnery. There was a sign on the gate saying “Vinyasa Vegan Meditation Centre”. He understood the word centre but the rest was a mystery. The sign went on “Creative Writers’ Retreat: Don’t Dream It Be It!”. He understood all the words this time, but wasn’t sure what they were all doing together in one sentence.

Pushing the gate open he wandered up to the main building. There seemed to be a group of humans sitting on little mats on the grass moving themselves into oddly contorted positions and breathing heavily. Weird humans.

The door was propped open and he walked in unchallenged. It had changed from what he remembered. Well, mostly what he remembered from last time was screaming nuns running and panicking to get away from the fire, so obviously it was going to be a bit different this time.

“Can I help you?” came a voice from behind him. He jumped and spun round. The humans he’d encountered so far hadn’t been any threat to him, but they did have access to holy stuff and he didn’t want to be using miracles here if he could help it.

Hastur had had quite a lot to do with the Satanic nuns before he’d set them on fire. They’d believed him when he told them of the rewards Satan would give to loyal servants. They’d trusted him, liked him even. At the time he’d found it very funny. Trusting a demon! Expecting Satan to care whether or not a load of humans thought he was great. They really were stupid creatures.

When he thought back he felt a nagging sadness, like maybe he’d been unfair to the nuns. At the end of the day they were only being helpful in their human way. He didn’t have to set fire to their home, that had just been mean. He shook his head. He was a demon, he was meant to be mean and unfair. It was his job.

The woman before him was staring at him, whispering under her breath something that sounded like “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit”. Now she was talking she did look vaguely familiar for some reason. She wasn’t dressed like a nun, but he thought she might have been once. Finally she managed to say something else: “Lord Hastur!” Then she fainted.

The demon was at a bit of a loss. The human had said his name, so obviously had been a nun here, then fell over and didn’t seem inclined to get up again. He kicked her lightly and she didn’t respond, so he tried a harder kick, but that didn’t help either. Sighing he picked up the collapsed human and carried her to a room somewhere out of the way. There was a sofa there so he dropped her onto it and sat in a nearby chair to wait for her to wake up.

It didn’t take long for her to wake up, but she then promptly fainted again so he had to wait a little longer. He thought that maybe she was thinking he was there to kill her so he waited until her eyes opened before shouting loudly “I won’t kill you”.

The woman shrieked and tried to get up and away from him. He grabbed her, but she continued making a loud noise so he put his hand over her mouth and waited until she stopped. He then realised she’d gone to sleep again and sighed.

After a few repeats of this the former nun had calmed down enough to ask him what he wanted. Hastur was pleased and explained about the kid. Unfortunately the only thing she could tell him was something to do with tosie-wosies, which was not very helpful.

Hastur shuffled awkwardly, he felt like he should say something but wasn’t sure what. The former-nun-human still looked scared. “Sorry I set fire to you” he blurted out. The human just blinked at him. “Here” he said shoving a handful of the money notes in her direction. The human blinked again, then took the notes saying hesitantly “errr thank you?” He nodded and walked off.

Not having found out anything useful he felt like the day had been a bit of a failure, but resolved to come back and have a proper look round the area again soon. He managed the bus again, which this time (to the surprise of the driver) went straight to the train station missing the church out completely.

The diversion of the bus annoyed a lot of people so the day wasn’t a total loss. Time to go meet Crowley and find out about the rest of Hell's work.


	15. Coffee Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur goes to meet Crowley, but bumps into someone he knows beforehand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, more of Hastur interacting with humans - I can’t keep away from it….

Crowley had suggested meeting up at a 'bar'. Hastur had been unsure about it, thought maybe it was a trick, but Amy had reassured him people often met in bars to discuss work.

He arrived at the place early and was concerned. It was noisy. Very noisy. Also it was full of humans. Noisy humans all stood very close together shouting at each other. He didn't like the look of it.

As he stood outside wondering what to do he heard someone saying his name. Spinning round, concerned about which demon had found him, he saw the coffee-human.

Breathing a sigh of relief he remembered to smile. That's what humans did when they saw other humans they knew, he’d watched them on television.

"It *is* you!" Said coffee-human. Well, of course it was. Hastur was confused. "Yes, it is. It's you as well..... Liz". He smiled again hoping this was the right thing to do.

"Are you going in?" She asked. He looked indecisive. "Meant to be meeting someone" he couldn't help but pull a face. Coffee-human looked maybe a bit disappointed.

"It's for work" he explained. She looked happier. "Do you have time for a drink first?" Hastur was a little surprised and said "yes" before he'd thought about it. 

"Inside or out?" Asked the coffee-human. There was no way he wanted to go inside. "It's really noisy in there. Don't like loud noise". She nodded, seeming to understand his reluctance, and found a table outside. They both sat.

He wasn't sure what came next so watched her carefully. "I know what I want already" she said, doing that smiling thing again and handing him a piece of cardboard. "Cocktail menu" she said as if that explained it.

Hastur looked at the 'menu'. He didn't understand it. He looked at the human helplessly. He was hoping for a cue. She was watching him expectantly. This was starting to get embarrassing.

"I don't know about cocktail menus". His tone was nervous, a little stressed sounding. She smiled again. He quite liked that smile. Somehow it was reassuring. It calmed him down.

"Shall I choose for you?"

"Yes, thank you Liz" he was quite proud of himself for remembering that humans said 'thank you' when other humans were helpful.

He was a bit unsure if he should have used her name. He had spent some time listening to humans talking to each other in person and on the television, but there didn't seem to be a pattern to using names. He looked at her to see if she was still smiling, but she wasn't looking at him.

Human interactions were confusing. Demon etiquette was quite clear about when to use a name, a title or an honorific and when abbreviations or nicknames were acceptable. Humans seemed to throw in different combinations of names, titles, nicknames, even calling different humans the same thing - loads of them were called ‘mate’ or ‘sir’ for some reason.

It didn’t make sense. He’d tried to track it, making notes as he watched different things on television, but couldn’t find the pattern. He’d even asked Amy, whose attempts at explaining things made him even more confused. In the end she’d advised him ‘if you’re not sure just don’t use any name’, but had also said that people liked to be called by name and it made them happy.

While contemplating the complexities of humans another one came over. The new human was wearing an apron. Was he going to cook? The two humans spoke to each other and the one in the apron wrote something down then walked away. 

"I got you espresso martini seeing as you like coffee so much" she did the smile again.

"I do like coffee, but can I have coffee here? I thought it was alcohol in bars". Amy had been quite specific about that. He couldn't ask for quadruple espresso at a bar. She had suggested he ask for 'a pint of bitter' but that didn't seem to have been an option.

The human laughed "it's coffee with alcohol. Have you never had cocktails before?" He shook his head. Her grin looked so evil that if he hadn't been 100% sure she was human he'd have sworn she was a demon.

"You'll love it" she laughed again and this time he joined in nervously. "I don't drink much alcohol normally" he explained. The evil grin came back. It really suited her. She was quite pretty when she looked this evil.

The other human arrived with a couple of glasses and set them down on the table. "Do you want to set up a tab or pay now?" He asked, looking at Hastur.

Hastur panicked "a tab..?" He half asked. The human seemed satisfied and walked off. He breathed a sigh of relief only to see the coffee-human was looking at him with an odd expression. Had he done something wrong?

"You don't have to pay for my drink y'know" she sounded suspicious. This was confusing. Not knowing what to say he answered literally. "I know I don't have to" that didn't seem to help.

Amy had given him some lessons on how humans did things. He recalled there was usually some sort of exchange with them - ‘you don’t get something for nothing’ she’d said when he’d been surprised that a shopkeeper had seemed to want something from him for the food he was taking. A soon to be late shopkeeper and a soon to be confused fire service at the intensity of such a small blaze as it turned out.

If he gave someone money then they would let him take things, like coffee, without having to miracle a conspicuous lack of attention on the human’s part. So was the problem that she thought he wanted something from her if he gave her a drink?

"I don't want anything in return" he blurted out. Following up with "well, unless you want to tell me about these ‘cocktails’. They don't have them where I come from". He tried the smiling again. It seemed to work, coffee-human relaxed.

"And where do you come from?" This was tricky. Technically he'd come from heaven originally, but now he was from hell. He didn't think either would be good answers. Trying to think of other places he shouted out the name of the only other place on earth he could remember "Meggido".

She looked confused. He added in a quieter tone "near Meggido anyway". The confused look didn't go away. "Is that Israel?" He was lost now. "No. Not really". He felt flustered and anxious, maybe he should leave.

"Palestine?" He’d heard of Palestine from being on earth some centuries ago and associated it in his mind with the area around Meggido. Therefore, this time he decided a positive answer would be better. "Yes" he said. That seemed to satisfy her.

"You're not Muslim though are you?" She was confusing him again. "Your religion" she prompted. He laughed, relieved. "I decided a long time ago not to follow god". This was easier. The human laughed too and smiled again. Phew, that had been difficult.

"Do you follow god?" He asked. She replied "that's a strange way to put it. But no, I guess not. I'm not particularly religious anyway". That was good. He liked the human and it would spoil things if she liked god.

The demon played that thought back to himself. He 'liked' the human? Surely that was wrong? He was getting confused again.

Well, it would all be sorted out soon, once Armageddon II happened there would be no humans around to confuse him. The thought didn't give him the usual happy glow. He pushed the weird feeling to one side. Might as well try the 'cocktail'.

He took a sip of his drink. It was nice. He could taste the coffee along with the slight sting of alcohol. It was very nice actually. The human was watching carefully. "Very nice" he confirmed and she smiled again. She smiled a lot, he wondered if that was always the case or if it was because he was there.

"Do you want to try some of mine?"

He looked at the green drink. "There's stuff on the glass" he pointed out. "It's salt, for the margarita, y'know?"

He didn't know but took a sip anyway. He spat the weird sour stuff out. "It's horrible!"

The human laughed. "I guess it's not for you then!" She put a hand on his arm and looked into his eyes smiling again. He was starting to really like that smile. She seemed to be expecting him to say something now.

"Is there something sweeter, with sugar, I like sugar".

Consulting the menu again she beckoned over the human in the apron. This time he paid attention to what she was saying. "Another margarita and a strawberry daiquiri please". The human scribbled on his pad and bustled off.

"Are you in London for work then?" Ah, an easy question. "Yes, I had to replace someone. I'm hoping to get back soon though".

The human seemed disappointed at that. "So you won't be here much longer then?"

"I'm not sure how long it will take. Then of course it depends on.... my boss.... prince of..." he'd nearly said Satan prince of darkness.

"You work for a prince?!" The human sounded impressed. "Is it like the Saudi royal family or something?"

"Something like that, but I don't really talk about him. He's, well errm" Hastur wasn't sure how to continue. "Evil?" He suggested hesitantly.

The coffee human frowned. He preferred when she smiled. "Why do you work for him if he's evil?"

That was a reasonable question. For some reason he didn't want to tell her he was evil too. He shrugged. "I don't really have a choice anymore. I joined him so long ago it's too late now".

The human looked sad. "It's never too late really though, you could do something else..." she tailed off, looking earnestly into his eyes. He liked the way she looked at him.

"Maybe it's not too late" Hastur conceded. He was pleased to see the human smiling again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there is a plot - and maybe a hint of it in the next chapter - although it is mainly focused on Hastur (& Ligur & their humans) and secondarily on the Aziraphale Crowley dynamic - although we don’t see any more of that for a few chapters yet. Hope someone else is finding it entertaining anyway.


	16. Flashback!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What it says - Hastur’s past: covering the reason for the rebellion and Hastur’s (and Ligur’s) own reasoning for joining.

Losing the war been bad enough, they didn’t need to make it worse. However, the supposedly merciful God and the supposedly ‘good’ angels had decided to make it much worse. Having their grace ripped from them during the fall from Heaven had hurt, really hurt, but that had been a picnic compared to the landing.

When they’d first arrived in the place they later called Hell the rebels had found themselves bound and helpless. Not only were they tied in chains that dragged at their broken limbs, contorting them into unnatural shapes, but their bonds held them on a lake of sulphurous fire.

The air was rent with the sound of the rebels’ screams and wails of agony. The sulphur burned their noses and eyes, the contact with the lake burned their flesh. There was no relief.

However, within a short time the chains had fallen away and they’d discovered they were free to move around their new home. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Jagged rocks, burning sulphur, bleak, dark regions of shadow and sorrow.

There had been much despair and lamentation. There had also been recrimination. Satan had, to begin with at least, ignored the others. While they blamed each other for the failure in the war, while others bemoaned their current surroundings and others still plotted and planned how they could somehow get back to God’s good graces, he explored their new surroundings.

Hastur had watched and waited too. He had been one of the first to join the rebellion, a staunch and, some would say, fanatical believer in Satan’s doctrine. That Heaven and God were unfair he knew to his core. Why should they, the angels of God’s own making, made first before all others, bow and scrape before whatever creation She came up with next.

First it had been Her, God, their creator to whom they owed their very existence. That She wanted their loyalty and servitude was perhaps understandable. Although, some of the angels had had their doubts even about this. There was no proof that God had really created them and everything else, they were relying on Her word alone and who was to say whether that could be trusted?

Secondly She had created a ‘Son’ to rule alongside Her. The angels were expected now to bow to this new creation, obey without question. That certainly didn’t seem either right or fair. Lastly She had created some new beings. This time around She said they were created in Her image and that they were inviolate. 

Although the angels were permitted to interact with them in limited ways they were to be left alone as much as possible. God had not only ‘created them in Her image’ but had also imbued them with some new and special quality called ‘free will’ that God was very keen on all of a sudden.

The thought that these humans were created in Her image and so, by implication, the angels were not, was upsetting. The idea that they had something the angels didn’t was also disturbing. What right did God have to withhold this new 'free will' from the angels, the first beings She had created?

The fact they could think like this and consider rebelling against Her clearly implied they had free will, but this had not occurred to them. Or, if it had occurred to any of them then they didn’t admit it. The angels were angry. Satan was most angered and he quickly collected the like minded to him. Thus the rebellion had started.

Hastur’s reason for joining the rebellion was a little different. Sure, he felt the same sense of resentment over God’s treatment of them, but this wasn’t really strong enough to have made him positively rebellious. No, to understand his viewpoint you need to understand his work.

God had decreed the building of a new world, an earth to house the special little humans and around it a cocoon of space and stars and suns. Her prime concern seemed to be to make it pretty and many angels were employed on the creation of stars and swirling nebula, of sunsets and phases of the moon.

Hastur had his interest in the darker side of space. The humans had finally, unbeknownst to him, got close to finding some of his creations, or at least deducing their existence. He had been focused on what humans now call Dark Energy and Dark Matter.

Somewhere in this endeavour he had come across a strange phenomenon. The dark energy and matter with which he painted and filled the gaps between the stars and planets seemed to have a quality all of it’s own. It was thick and volatile, difficult to work with and prone to ripping the delicate fabric that he was filling with it.

This was what led to the discovery. There had been a large rip opening in the time/space fabric on which he was working. These rips could be sealed quite quickly and didn’t usually concern him. However, this time curiosity got the better of him and he looked through the gap.

Luckily Hastur was an angel, imbued with celestial powers and able to withstand even direct communication with God (although she usually preferred to use her spokesperson). If he had had any of the limitations of the human mind he would not have survived the experience.

Outside the continuum he was working on should have been nothing. Less than nothing in fact, a blank void of non-existence. However, it wasn’t.

He could never recall exactly what it was he had seen. That was probably a very good thing. However, the flashes he did remember caused him not a small amount of disquiet. Where there should have been less than nothing there had been something.

On top of that, within the void of outside-space that in itself should not have been there, had been something else that should not have been there. The non-space outside of all creation had not been entirely empty. There had been something alive there. Something asleep but dreaming, something so terrible that even God could not compete.

With that revelation Hastur had sealed up the rip and tried to rid himself of the terrible knowledge. However, it wouldn’t leave him alone. God: the self-styled one and only God. Their creator: the supreme power in all creation, was not, in fact, the only God. Once he’d discovered this he couldn’t, in all conscience, bow down to Her.

He’d left his workplace for some time after this discovery, seeking out one of the few angels who he felt comfortable with. For some reason the booming confidence of Gabriel, the clipped efficiency of Michael and the smug superiority of Uriel didn’t inspire the sense of heavenly love they should do. He was also afraid they wouldn’t believe him.

When he’d found *his* angel he was comforting and warm and didn’t question him. He held him tight while Hastur explained in halting terms his terrible revelation. The other didn’t even think about not believing him. Together they had made their decision to join with the already discontented few - a number that was to rise to around a third of the heavenly host by the time of the rebellion.

Hence Hastur and Ligur had become something of the fanatics in Satan’s cause. When Satan had taken the helm in Hell they had been some of the first on board. Hastur was a little disappointed he and Ligur had only been made Dukes - but they had been of the lower orders in heaven so it was still a big step up.

He was aware his strange demeanour and disturbing eyes, darker than the dark space on which he had previously worked, did tend to upset the other demons. It therefore wasn’t entirely a surprise to him that he hadn’t been put in a position that would have required more day to day contact with the demonic hoards. He was just happy that Ligur hadn’t been promoted away from him (he didn’t for one moment think that Ligur could have had a lower rank than he).

When Satan had decreed that they should fill their time in attempting to drag God’s favourite new toys - the humans - down to Hell he was all in favour. He wasn’t sure exactly why, he didn’t really care about the humans, but he was eager to be seen as enthusiastic, worthy of inclusion. So that, despite his uncomfortable presence and somewhat awkward manner, the demons would have to respect him.

He had initially been one of the keenest to hurt and defile the humans, to cause them to suffer as the rebels had suffered. It gave him satisfaction that, in hurting them, he may, in some way, be hurting God. She had lied to them all and tried to keep them in Her servitude and so he had wanted to avenge himself. 

After the passage of time, what he mainly felt wasn’t anger but a sense of having been let down by Her. He was disappointed rather than vengeful, like a child discovering there’s no father Christmas. Humans were so irrelevant in the grand scheme of things he really did wonder why the demons should waste so much time on them.

If even God was a small thing in the ultimate scale of the greater non-universe, then humans were less than a speck of dust. They had been, he supposed, a useful outlet for the demons’ pent up need for revenge, and a way to pass the time before Armageddon (when of course they would win). It all felt a bit pointless now.

As soon as Armageddon II started there wouldn’t be any more humans, so continuing to hurt them on the run up to it felt a bit unfair. Being stationed up on earth and forced to interact with them was also giving him a new insight into their little lives.

The earth may be tiny and insignificant, the humans unimportant and short lived, but they did seem to have fun. He’d never really had fun before, never considered he could just enjoy his existence outside of Heaven without hurting anyone. Maybe it was worth pursuing.

Perhaps the human was right when she said it wasn’t too late, perhaps he could decide to do something else even now. It might be the unaccustomed alcohol in his system, but he was almost enjoying himself and he hadn’t even set fire to anyone. It was interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a jump backwards here to what things were like before the fall - I enjoyed giving Hastur a back story and seeing Ligur and him together in Heaven. There will be a bit from Ligur’s point of view later on - but in the interim back to the present in the next few chapters…


	17. Coffee Human Continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We’re back to present day again now and Hastur is sitting having cocktails with a human! How did this happen and how will the evening progress? Let’s find out…..

The drinks arrived. Hastur’s was pink, well reddish pink, with things sticking up out of it. He tried to drink and nearly poked one of the things in his eye.

The human was laughing again. "You can use the straw!" She said, miming putting something to her lips. She was confusing him again. Just when he seemed to have got the hang of things too.

Clearly she saw his slightly dejected expression "I'm sorry, here, let's just get rid of these". She took the things out of his drink and put them on the table. He drank successfully this time. It was very cold, some of it had actually frozen in fact, but it was sweet and he liked it.

"This is good. I like this" he said nodding, and was relieved to see her smile again. They were both quiet for a few moments. 

Hastur decided he should say something. "Are you from London?" That was a good question. He was pleased with himself for thinking of it.

"Yeah, Tottenham. My grandmother was from Jamaica. Y'know: the Windrush generation, but I'm not exotic like you, just boring old Tottenham".

Hastur didn't understand what Tottenham was. In fact he didn't understand most of what she'd said. He knew the word 'exotic' though, it meant something exciting and interesting, bright, colourful and beautiful. Did she really think he was exotic?

"I think you're exotic" he did the smile again and she smiled back. "Guess it depends on your perspective. I'd never say Tottenham was exotic!"

Hastur frowned. "I don't know about Tottenham. I think you're exotic though". It was her turn to frown. He wondered if he'd said something wrong.

"What do you mean?" She asked suspiciously. He screwed up his face trying to think of how to explain it. "Well, you're exciting and beautiful and you know about interesting things like cocktails".

The human seemed to turn a slightly darker colour and looked down at the table. Had he upset her? He hadn't meant to. "I'm sorry" he said in a panic.

"No, it's ok. It's just, well here in London, people don't often say you're beautiful. Not unless they want something. I guess it's a cultural thing". She looked up and smiled at him again.

"I don't think so. I've not said it to anyone else, not even Ligur".

"Who is Ligur?"

"He's my partner". For some reason this information seemed to distress the human.

"Oh, I didn't know you had a partner. I thought you...well I thought you were flirting with me".

Hastur was confused. "What does flirting mean?"

The human looked embarrassed. "Like you fancy me" seeing his baffled expression she continued "like you want to have a relationship with me". He still looked confused "you know kissing and stuff, like partners".

Ah, that made more sense. The other human thought he wanted to have sex with her too. Humans clearly spent a lot of time thinking about sex. Mind you this human was pretty and her smile made him happy. Maybe he would like to kiss her. He’d never tried kissing anyone before, well not for a very long while anyway.

The alcohol was giving him a gentle buzz and he felt more confident, more willing to take a risk. He found he’d started speaking without realising it "I could kiss you if you want" he offered, gazing at her intently.

"What about your partner. Wouldn't he object to you kissing strange women?"

"You're not strange and Ligur wouldn't object. He could always kiss someone too if he wanted. I don't mind". He wasn’t sure who Ligur would want to kiss but he wouldn’t mind if he did.

The human frowned, like she was thinking about this. "So you're not exclusive then?" He had no idea what she meant. Again his confusion was evident as she tried to clarify: "you both see other people, not just each other?"

That was an odd thing to say. Why would he not be able to see other people because of Ligur? "We see other people. He's seeing Amy at the moment. Although she's kind of mine more than his, or she was to begin with anyway. I'm not sure now. It's complicated".

The demon was a bit lost. Luckily the human seemed to understand. "You can both have more than one partner then, if you want?" It sounded like saying 'yes' would resolve things so he did. He didn't like it when the conversation got this confusing. He could always ask Amy about it later.

It worked and she seemed to relax. "Do you really want to kiss me or were you just being polite?" She asked smiling again.

Aided by the second cocktail Hastur made a decision. He would like to kiss her. He took her hand and gently lifted it so his lips touched her palm then looked up.

Coffee human seemed happy, then she pulled him closer and kissed him properly. He knew about kissing in theory, but wasn't exactly sure how it was meant to work in practise. He decided to simply follow her lead. It seemed to work, at least she didn’t complain.

They kissed for some time. It was surprisingly nice, better than he expected anyway. Coffee human tasted slightly of the bitter sharp cocktail, but somehow it was nicer tasting it on her. He was enjoying this, maybe he was even having fun.

Eventually she pulled back and looked at him saying "you have beautiful eyes". Hastur realised his corporation had gone red around the face all on it’s own. That had never happened before. It felt weird. Not unpleasant though.

He felt like he should say something back, but wasn't sure what. He took hold of her hand instead and smiled, looking into her eyes, like he did with Ligur. He wondered about the kissing thing, maybe he could try that on Ligur too.

At this point Crowley turned up. He saw Hastur holding hands with a woman. A human by the smell of it. Strange. Actually it was probably very dangerous for the human. He should probably intervene.

"Hey Hastur, how's it going?"

Hastur jumped, dropping coffee human's hand and spinning round. "Crowley" he growled scowling at him "you're late".

The strange woman got up "I'd better go then Hastur, leave you to work". She was smiling at Hastur. That was very odd.

Hastur was torn. He needed to talk work with Crowley, but unaccountably he didn't want the coffee human to leave. She got a little oblong shaped thing out of her pocket. 

"What's your number?" He looked blank. Crowley jumped in "he doesn't have a phone. No really, he doesn't!" Hastur scowled at him. He felt he'd been shown up in some way. Made to look silly.

Coffee human looked at Crowley and he was pleased to see she didn't seem to like what she saw. She flagged down the apron human and borrowed his pad to write something.

Hastur took the offered piece of paper and looked at it. "Liz" then a string of numbers. "That's my number for when you get a phone. Give me a call and we can have cocktails again".

She smiled at him, leaned down and kissed his cheek, before heading off. Hastur watched her go with a strange fluttery feeling. He decided he liked coffee human quite a lot. Not as much as Ligur, but it felt similar.

Crowley was staring at his fellow demon. Hastur, Duke of Hell. Evil, cruel and dangerous. He killed people, he didn't collect their numbers!

Hastur turned to stare at him. "How do I get a phone?" He asked gruffly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww, see: Hastur can be cute (when he’s not killing people anyway). Now Crowley has arrived it’s back to business though - well kind of…


	18. Another Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to business… kind of. Hastur exploits his new found knowledge about humans to finally get the upper-hand over Crowley, and yet another ‘deal’ emerges….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still writing away on this one, I’m many chapters ahead of this but keep flitting back as I’m terrible at re-writing scenes. Hope it’s ok so far.

Crowley opened and closed his mouth a few times. 

"Bugger this, I'll just ask Amy. Don't bother".

"Who is Amy?" Crowley was confused. "Was that Amy?" He asked, indicating the direction the woman had disappeared off in.

"No, of course not. That's coffee human....errr Liz in fact. Amy is the other human. The one who cooks and knows about television".

Hastur said this grumpily, like it should be self explanatory. Crowley was a bit lost, but decided he couldn't be bothered to spend any more time on it.

He called the waiter over. "Can I get a 'corpse reviver'?" He asked confidently. The waiter looked blank. 

Hastur handed him the cardboard thing "cocktail menu" he explained, turning to the apron human and saying "espresso martini and whatever he wants" waving a hand at Crowley.

What was going on? Since when did Hastur know anything about cocktails? He glanced down the menu "errrrr".

Hastur leaned over, suggesting maliciously "the margarita is good. It has salt". He grinned to himself thinking it would serve Crowley right getting a horrible sour drink like that. The other demon nodded, half hypnotised by the unexpected competence of his companion.

They eyed each other warily until the waiter came back with the drinks. Crowley got his wallet out, but again Hastur jumped in. "I got a tab" he said grinning. 

However, once the waiter departed, he looked concerned. "What is a tab?"

"You get a bill and pay at the end, before you leave. Did you buy that woman drinks?" Crowley was suspicious. Something was off here.

"I told her I didn't want anything in return. It's alright isn't it? She wanted me to kiss her and she *did* kiss me…." The strangeness of the evening was catching up with Hastur. He wasn't sure what had happened. 

"You kissed her? And she gave you her number?" This was unbelievable.

Hastur suddenly realised he'd got the upper-hand here. The other demon was totally thrown by what had happened. He grinned.

"She thinks I've got beautiful eyes" he said seriously, watching the other carefully. The shot went home. Crowley was totally flummoxed. Hastur felt good. He was really having fun now.

"Anyway, you gotta tell me about the temptations. Have you done them?"

Crowley nodded, still in a bit of a daze. Hastur kissed a human.... and she wanted to do it again?? It didn't make sense.

He realised that the other demon was staring at him so he tried to pull himself together. He took a big swig of his margarita to steady his nerves.

"Right. Temptations. Let's see" the redhead pulled out the bundle of parchment and began to run through the details.

His companion pulled out his own piece of parchment and an ostentatious quill made from what looked like an angel's wing feather. Crowley stopped talking, looking meaningfully at the quill.

The tall demon grinned at his interest. "Pulled it outta Michael's wing. That's Archangel Michael". He didn't need to clarify and he knew it, but Hastur had always enjoyed creating an impression. "She squealed like anything when I yanked it out". The grin got wider.

"How did you get close enough to do that? Why didn't she smite you?" He couldn't help asking even though he knew the other would be dying to tell him. Not showing any curiosity would have been the cooler option, but he’d already been confused by Hastur and had answered before really thinking about it.

Hastur chuckled. In his previous conversations with Crowley the other had always seemed to have the upper-hand in some subtle way he couldn't quite define. Now he'd turned it around. This time he was enjoying himself.

The feather wasn't pulled out of Michael's wing. Although he had met her occasionally (mainly because Michael seemed under the illusion Ligur had liked her) her hatred (jealousy?) of Hastur wouldn't have allowed him near enough to pluck a feather. She had, however, dropped a wing feather in Hell, presumably due to the surprise of Crowley not dissolving, and he’d picked it up. Not that he was about to admit that.

"That's on a.... a 'strictly need to know basis' an' you don't need to know". He repeated a phrase he’d heard someone use as a snub on a television show. It seemed to work. The other's mouth dropped open for a few seconds before he attempted a nonchalant shrug that didn't quite come off.

Inside the tall demon felt a glow of pride. He'd beaten the flash bastard at his own game.

Crowley quickly got down to business, mainly to distract from his boss's sudden unexpected competence in the realm of human idioms.

He ran that sentence through his head again. Hastur wasn't his boss. Why had he thought that? He shivered. This deal seemed worse and worse the more he thought about it.

At the end of the recital Hastur stuffed his notes back in his pocket and reached over for the worksheets. Handing them over he was surprised when Hastur tried to give him yet another bundle of worksheets.

"No. I did them already. Deal fulfilled"

"Not quite. We didn't agree a time-frame. It's 'open ended'. That means you gotta keep doing it" adding the explanation in case it was necessary. It probably wasn't but he wanted to demonstrate he knew what the phrase meant.

"Ah, errr, ngk" this wasn't how it was meant to go. He thought back to the conversation. What exactly had he agreed to? Ah yes, he'd agreed to come back to work for Hell. The only caveat he'd requested was that they wouldn't ask for another Spanish Inquisition. Shit.

When he considered the conversation he realised just how stupid he'd been. Making a deal with a demon was a dangerous business. You didn't just go 'yeah alright' to the first proposal and shake on it. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He hadn't even tried to negotiate.

The other was watching his face. When he saw realisation dawning he laughed. This was so good. So much fun! He wondered how long he could keep stringing him along before he found a loophole.

Actually he shouldn't need him for long. Once he'd sorted Armageddon II none of this would matter. He decided to offer the other a concession. Well, it was more of a swap really.

"Tell you what. We'll call it good for one year eh? You can manage a year can’t you?"

That was really suspicious. He was being offered an out. "What do you want in return?" Bless it, he shouldn't have said that. Take the offer and shake on it, don't gift him a chance to demand something in return.

"I need a phone... and there are other human things I might want... want 'help' with". The word 'help' was a difficult one. Demons didn't ask for help. However, it was what he wanted so he had to ask. It made him feel a bit better when he remembered this was a demonic deal and Crowley didn't want to do it.

"What!?" The other was stunned. He wanted help to learn about humans? This wasn't the same demon he'd known before. He squinted at him "are you ok?"

Hastur scowled. "Of course I'm ok. I want a phone to call coffee-human an' it's difficult with cooking-human cuz obviously I can't take her out with me". He sighed in an exasperated way. "You can always stay with the current deal if you'd rather. Forever, obviously"

The other demon was lost. All this talk of humans and phones and coffee and cookery. What was going on? He latched onto the important word 'forever'. No, he definitely didn't want to be trapped in the deal forever.

"Yeah ok. Let's go to Carphone Warehouse". He was about to get up before he remembered. "Let's shake on it". That had been close: he’d nearly forgotten to make the end date official.

He then had to explain that Carphone Warehouse was a place that sold phones and had nothing to do with cars, absolutely nothing to do with cars, nothing at all - honest.

In the meanwhile the waiter had noticed the signs of departure and ran over with the bill. Hastur looked at him blankly then turned to Crowley "what does apron-human want?" He said completely ignoring the waiter’s baffled expression.

After having explained about the bill and how 'a tab' worked and being surprised when Hastur threw a handful of notes at the waiter then wouldn't take his change Crowley groaned inwardly. Teaching Hastur about human things wasn't going to be easy.

"What's 'a card' and why do these humans keep asking if I want to pay for stuff with one?"

Yup. It was certainly wasn't going to be easy. He suggested going back to the flat to talk, but for some reason the other entirely negated the idea. They ended up on a bench in the park. They talked at some length, then went to buy a phone. Then talked at even greater length. 

Hastur now knew what a bank card was and had a vague idea of what a modern smart-phone was capable of. He even had a very shaky understanding of the internet: it was like a library, a market and a porn mag combined. He liked the sound of it.

Crowley then told him seriously that the internet was now the leading cause for all seven of the seven deadly sins. Hastur filed that information away, deciding he would need to find out more, but for now he had a more important object in mind.

He was very impressed with these humans. He corrected himself 'people'. Apparently calling them 'humans' made them uncomfortable, even suspicious. Yes, *people* had come on a long way. They were interesting now.

Crowley had misgivings about Hastur’s interest in people. He thought of the things people could do to one another and shuddered to think what would happen if Hell cottoned onto them. At least the new deal with Hastur meant he controlled what the demon would learn about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked showing Hastur getting his own back on Crowley as I always had the sense that the snake-y demon was mean to him on a regular basis (not just trapping him in an ansa-phone that one time). There has to be a reason Hastur doesn’t like jokes - although the little speech about jokes in GO-TV with Eric/disposable demon might just have been Hastur’s way of letting off steam by scaring the Hell outta an underling! The comment made me think that possibly he gets teased though and that’s why he reacts badly to humour… maybe I’m just trying to give him the benefit of the doubt though!
> 
> The plot will emerge (eventually) but for now I’m focused on relationships - we skip back to Aziraphale’s POV next chapter.


	19. Is This Jealousy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Crowley is out meeting Hastur, Aziraphale is left alone. Has he noticed the other’s secret machinations on Hell’s behalf? What will he do left on his own for an evening?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switching between different POVs seems to have become a common habit in my writing - I hope it isn’t too confusing. I can’t resist trying to delve into each character’s thoughts and motivations, even though I worry it might make things difficult to follow at times. It’s still a learning curve for me and I really hope I’m improving. Maybe with more practise I’ll get a more settled style but for now I’m enjoying playing around with stuff. Comments/thoughts are always welcome.

Aziraphale had been surprised when Crowley had announced he was off out. “Oh, I’ll be closing up in an hour, do you want me to join you?” he offered.

“Errr, n..no, no I’m just going, just going to see, well do, err… something. Look - I’ll see you later ok?” With that the demon had departed, slamming the door behind him. It was unusual behaviour, very unusual.

In fact, when he thought about it, a lot of Crowley’s recent behaviour had been unusual. After Armageddon had been averted they’d both been at a bit of a lose end. Crowley more so than him. He had his bookshop, Crowley had some plants and that was it.

Once back from Tadfield the demon had spend a few days hanging around the bookshop before deciding it was time to go back to his flat. He wasn’t gone long. About an hour after he’d left he was back at the shop, with a suitcase and a couple of vibrantly green plants, and announced he was going to stay for good.

The angel had been delighted. He’d only ever visited the demon’s flat once and he hadn’t liked it. Admittedly it was very ‘stylish’, ‘sophisticated’ and ‘suave’ at this point the angel had run out of words beginning with ‘s’ that he could use to describe the flat.

For some reason his internal monologue always demanded ‘ssss’ words in relation to Crowley. He was ‘smooth’, ‘svelte’, ‘slim’, even (he admitted to himself) ‘sexy’. The one thing he was not was settled.

No, when he thought about it, it was quite odd that the demon had seemed to settle down to life in the bookshop so easily. He’d taken it for granted up until now, but just recently he’d started to notice a difference.

Crowley had started going out on his own more. He’d watch while Aziraphale ate his breakfast sipping on black coffee as he did so, then, as soon as the other had finished and started considering whether to open the shop, he’d slip out. It was irritating as Crowley was good at deciphering some of the more obscure medieval grimoires. The demonic symbols always gave the angel a headache.

It wasn’t that he didn’t see him, just that he didn’t see as much of him. There were other changes as well. He’d sometimes catch the demon looking at him strangely with a slightly suspicious expression, almost sly. He realised he’d fallen back on ‘s’ words again. Something in the other’s snaky nature he supposed.

Sighing he tried to concentrate on the palimpsest in front of him. It was no good he couldn’t give it the attention it needed. He had no idea when the demon would be back so decided to go out for a walk rather than sit and wait.

Even though it was summer the evening air still held a damp chill. The angel pulled his scarf tighter. He was surprised to see that, despite the less than summery weather, there were still people sat out on the pavement seating at most of the bars and restaurants.

Ah, he’d forgotten, it was the human addiction to nicotine that did it. Clouds of fragrant mist from a variety of mainly fruity smelling vapes joined the occasional whiff of real tobacco smoke. Most of the smokers didn't even seem to enjoy it. He could hear their internal promises to themselves to 'give up'. In the interim it was just money going up in smoke and so inconvenient sitting outside in the drizzle.

He did feel sorry for them, if only they could break the habit. He sighed, but didn’t try to intervene. He’d promised not to interfere and he was jolly well going to stick to that promise this time.

As he passed one particular bar he thought he saw the back of a head that he recognised. It looked just like Crowley! That was strange. Actually it wasn’t strange, why shouldn’t the demon pop out to a bar for a drink? Maybe he could join him, as he was walking past anyway what would be more natural?

Something, however, held him back from alerting the demon to his presence. Maybe it was the way Crowley had almost deliberately not mentioned where he was going, stuttering over his words like he was trying to hide something. He crossed the road instead, pretending not to have seen him.

Curiosity, however, got the better of him and he stopped and looked back towards the bar. His demon was sat talking to someone. His senses were suddenly hyper-alert and he wondered what was going on. Then he felt a stab of an unfamiliar emotion. Was it fear, or perhaps jealousy?

Aziraphale tried to dismiss the thought. He shook his head and was about to walk off when the demon’s companion caught his eye. He was a tall thin man wearing a rather nice suit, but it wasn’t the suit that made the skin on the back of his neck crawl.

His eyes, it was his eyes, that was it! He'd only caught a glimpse as the other had turned to watch a woman leaving the bar, but his pupils had been so dilated his eyes were almost black. Now where had he seen eyes like that before? Not a nice place, he felt stressed just thinking about it.

Yes, the last time he’d seen eyes like that had been down in Hell when he’d taken the holy water bath on Crowley’s behalf. The person he was sat drinking with had eyes almost exactly like the demon Hastur. The demon who’d prosecuted his show trial and would have dissolved him in holy water. Surely he couldn’t be sat drinking with him, could he? If so Crowley would be in great danger, perhaps that was what was causing the crawling sensation down the back of his neck.

Aziraphale wanted to go back to check, if he was nearer he would be able to tell if the other was a demon. He would almost certainly recognise Hastur close up too, at this distance he wasn't sure. However, going back ran the risk of him being seen by Crowley. He was unsure of his motives too. His first reaction to seeing Crowley out drinking with another man had been what he thought was jealousy, was he not just being jealous now? He was indecisive, should he go and check or not?

The man didn’t have a frog on his head, wasn’t dressed in the same shabby clothes and certainly wasn’t acting like Hastur. In fact, the very idea that Hastur would come up to earth, get fitted out in a very nice grey pinstripe suit and sit drinking cocktails outside a Soho bar with his erstwhile sworn enemy was ridiculous when he thought about it.

The angel shook his head at his irrational fear. Of course Crowley wasn’t in any danger, he was just out having a drink with a friend. Yes, ‘a friend’. He hadn’t known the other had any friends to speak of, well apart from himself.

He supposed the demon must know humans, he had to have met some over the years, but he’d never introduced any to him. Never suggested they go out for a drink with any ‘friends’ he might have.

Perhaps he could just check up on him, make sure it was alright, that he wasn’t in any danger. The angel had almost decided to turn back when another thought made him freeze mid-step. Was this just jealousy? Did he want to check up on him, not because he was worried, but because he was jealous?

It was difficult for him to tell as he’d never felt it before. It was as if a hand had reached inside him and given his heart a squeeze, a slightly painful, uncomfortable feeling. It was not that different from fear actually, was that what it felt like to be jealous?

Maybe it was genuine concern for the other’s safety. Perhaps he wasn’t jealous at all, but what if Crowley thought he was? The thought made him shiver. That would never do. No, Crowley was free to have drinks with however he wanted to, he had no obligation to introduce any human friends he might have and no duty to tell him where he was going or what he was doing.

He could always ask him about it later, when he got in. Maybe there was a simple explanation. It didn’t look like he was being threatened in any way. Even if it was another demon talking to him then Crowley could handle himself couldn’t he? He did wish he could sort it out now though. Oh well, hopefully he wouldn’t be late back and they could talk this evening.

The angel had been dithering on the pavement long enough for people around him to start getting annoyed. An angry looking man in jeans and a leather jacket yelled at him to get out of the way. He reluctantly carried on walking, feeling unaccountably miserable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m throwing a few 'relationship difficulties’ at poor Aziraphale and Crowley in this. No long term relationship is going to be perfection all the time and post Armageddon’t (or whatever you want to call it) there would be a fair number of changes to come to terms with. However, at the end of the day, they’ve been best friends for six thousand years, so I’m sure they’ll work it out.
> 
> We’re flitting back to Crowley and Hastur again now…..


	20. Envy & Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley (reluctantly) starts teaching Hastur about human things… and they end up on a proper night out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some fun writing this one - it’s a bit of silliness really, but I liked it… and demons *do* dance after all!
> 
> Sorry if this sort of self-indulgence twaddle isn’t to your taste! I know I’ve said it before, but there will be a proper plot eventually - promise - just need to get some silly fluffy/angsty stuff out of my system first…

Hastur was looking pleased with himself. He had a phone and a bank card. The card had miraculously appeared as soon as he understood the concept. The string of numbers was the right length, but the pure black colour with strange silvery sigil conformed to no known bank on earth.

The other demon also explained about wallets. Carrying large amount of notes around loose in pockets wasn’t very human. It was getting embarrassing when Hastur pulled handfuls of them out to pay for things.

They’d looked at some of the wallets in the shops on Oxford Street. He’d told Hastur they were leather - i.e. made of specially treated cow’s skin. He regretted telling him they were made of skin as soon as he’d said it. Hastur was enthusiastic enough about killing things as it was, without giving him the idea he could make stuff out of the bodies afterwards.

He ended up miracling up a wallet in what Crowley could only assume was real snakeskin. He decided the other demon had done it deliberately to try to unnerve him. Snakeskin indeed. Although he tried to be disdainful the pattern of the scales was uncomfortably close to his own serpentine colourings and the half implied threat made him a little jittery. 

Crowley had assumed that, by getting the other demon kitted out with all these human things (and going through the tortuous process of teaching him how to use a phone), he’d have fulfilled this particular deal. Unfortunately Hastur had other ideas.

“Right, I need to find places to go out to, places I can take humans”. His black eyes seemed to shine happily at the thought of taking humans out. It was very disturbing.

“Um, what sort of places do you want to go?” Asked the black-clad demon warily.

“What about somewhere we can dance? I like dancing”. Oh yes, Crowley knew Hastur liked dancing. His mood crashed even further, taking his boss (bless it, not his boss, Hastur was not his boss) out dancing was about the worst torment he could imagine. Actually, scratch that, there were many worse torments he could imagine, he just hoped Hell in general (and Hastur in particular) wouldn’t find out about them.

Crowley had spent thousands of years up on earth, thousands of years amongst humans: drunk humans, stupid humans, clever humans, uncoordinated and sometimes mad humans. He’d never encountered anyone who danced as badly as his former boss.

He had also spent a long time cultivating a sophisticated persona. Bless it he had a reputation he wanted to maintain and if he went out dancing with Hastur that wasn’t going to happen. He wandered vaguely though the streets of London feeling more and more depressed. Where was he going to take him? Where could he go that he wouldn’t be recognised?

They were back in Soho by now and Hastur was following the sound of drunken humans, shouting and singing happily. Oh no, he’d found the queue to get into a club…. 

Hastur was confused and hissed at Crowley “why don’t they just go in?” On explaining about queues the other was disdainful. On seeing one of the DJs sauntering up to the front of the queue and going straight in he’d decided he would do the same. The bouncer on the door found himself half bowing to the unknown couple and ushering them in. The waiting queue were curious and impressed.

Inside the club was loud and full. Hastur didn’t really like this quantity of humans and soon spotted a emptier VIP area near the back and made a beeline for it. Again the staff suddenly had the urge to treat these strangers as immensely important and immediately let them through and showed them to a table.

They were attracting some attention now. Hastur in his very expensive looking suit and the other in tight black jeans, a shirt of some soft silky material and dark glasses. They made a bit of an odd couple, but it was more the attentiveness of the VIP area waiters that people noticed. Crowley decided to make the best of it and ordered a couple of bottles of the most expensive champagne on the menu.

The tall demon’s card caused some confusion, but on putting it in the machine it cleared a spend of two thousand pounds before the waiter had a chance to blink. That and the fact they had been given a table usually reserved for the most important people on the scene ensured they were very well looked after.

Hastur looked around the club. He wasn’t too keen on the loudness, but he liked the envy he seemed to be inspiring in the humans around him. This was clearly a nice easy way to inspire sin. Sit at a comfortable table drinking pleasantly bubbly stuff and smell the sin coming off the humans around him.

There was also dancing. Lots of dancing. The humans were really enjoying it and he could sense a complex mixture of some sort of hedonistic happiness and pure lust floating up from the swaying, gyrating crowds. As he drank more of the bubbly stuff he felt the urge to join them.

He signalled to his guide and underling to come with him to the dance-floor. Crowley was having none of it. They were the centre of attention as it was without making it worse. He could just about cope with sitting drinking overpriced champagne in the VIP area (now his companion was dressed respectably), but dancing with him was a step too far.

When it became clear Crowley wouldn’t dance the other demon looked around the crowds outside of the VIP cordon and signalled to an attractive looking youngish man in tight, dark trousers and a white t-shirt. The man came over readily enough, clearly he had been singled out by these very important people and he wasn’t going to decline.

“Wanna dance?” The slightly older one asked. To the side of the table was an ice-bucket with an eye-wateringly expensive bottle of champagne in it and an attentive waiter hovering just behind. The one asking him to dance was wearing a suit that looked tailor made and he’d seen them ushered in ahead of the rest of the queue. He didn’t need persuading that dancing with this guy was a great idea.

Crowley watched amazed as Hastur, Duke of Hell, called over an attractively built and definitely awestruck human and asked him to dance. The demon was acting like he owned the place. When they reached the dance-floor he looked away, screwing his eyes tight shut. No matter how cool the other demon had managed to make himself look so far, he was bound to come unstuck when it came to dancing.

He opened one eye and turned reluctantly to see how much the other was embarrassing himself. Only he wasn’t. He was dancing well. He seemed to have a pretty well developed flare and sense of timing in fact. Crowley stared in amazement.

The dancing was a little over the top, like he was copying something choreographed involving sparkly sequinned outfits off the telly. Ah, that was it, the demon must have learned this from the television. The dancing was attracting attention, but in the same way as their queue jumping and VIP seating had attracted attention. A good sort of attention.

The man Hastur had taken onto the dance-floor was doing his best to fend off the predators, stop them from stealing his new partner. He wasn’t going to share this guy with anyone! When they’d spun around the floor a few times he felt his arm being taken and allowed himself to be lead back to the VIP table and handed a glass.

This was like a dream, a really good dream. Picked up by a rich older man with great dance moves, now being fed thousand pound champagne and sat in the raised VIP area - the envy of the whole club. The man beamed up at his sugar daddy. Best night ever! He thought.

The demon was thoroughly enjoying himself too, he loved dancing and this human style he’d seen on the television seemed to attract a lot of admiring looks. The human he’d picked to dance with was looking at him adoringly - did that count as worshipping false idols he wondered.

The bubbly stuff kept flowing and Crowley looked totally out of his depth. This was great. As he drank more and danced and called over the waiters demanding more bubbles then cocktails the night turned into a bit of a whirl.

At some point Crowley had sneaked away leaving him to it, but he didn’t care. This human stuff was tremendous fun and he didn’t even seem to need a guide now, he was doing it intuitively. Unfortunately it appeared this ‘club’ wasn’t going to stay open all night. When he went out into the fresh air the alcohol hit him like a freight train and he very nearly fell straight into the gutter. 

His human companion held him up, then grabbed him more firmly pushing him into the wall. For the second time in 24 hours Hastur found himself kissing a human. This human tasted different, but the basic premise of kissing seemed the same. It really was quite fun actually.

The human was looking at him expectantly “where now?” he asked. That was a good question. Hastur wanted to go back to the flat and see Ligur, but this human seemed to want him to take him somewhere, seemed to be holding and pulling at him somewhat excessively in fact.

The demon was confused and decided he had better get rid of the human as soon as possible. He didn’t like the way he was being grabbed at. Tuning into the other’s thoughts he realised that, yet again, a human thought he wanted to have sex with them. What was it with humans and sex?

A big black car pulled over to the side of the curb and the man tried to get Hastur to get in. He was having none of that! Getting in a car was incredibly dangerous and he certainly didn’t want this human trying to have sex with him in one.

He remembered that giving humans money seemed to make them happy and most of them left him alone after he’d paid them. He got his new wallet out and stuffed a handful of notes into the other’s hand.

The man was surprised, but not terribly unhappy, when his dance partner thrust about a hundred quid into his hand and shut the taxi door on him. He watched as the other turned abruptly and almost, but not quite, ran in the opposite direction.

Well, that had been an interesting evening he thought. A seat in the VIP area, free champagne all night, dancing with a not too bad looking companion and a story to tell his jealous friends. He hadn’t even had to offer anything in return. It was a shame the other hadn’t wanted to give him a number, but overall he’d count it as a success.

Hastur had had a good night too. Although he was getting very concerned about how many humans seemed to think he wanted to have sex with them. Weird humans. He’d have to ask Amy or Crowley about it, it didn’t seem normal.

Mind you, lust appeared to be an easy sin for him to inspire. Envy and lust - overall a successful night. He sauntered off towards the flat still a little unsteady from the quantity of champagne and cocktails he’d imbibed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enough of this foolishness….back to some more Azira angst again next chapter (sorry)


	21. Suspicions/Concerns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley gets back after his night on the town with Hastur and doesn’t get the sympathy he feels he deserves….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is less self-indulgent foolishness and more miscommunication and angst… Hope I’ve managed to capture the moods of the protagonists in a reasonably realistic way anyhow (as always thoughts/comments welcome)

Aziraphale had forced himself to continue his walk just as if nothing had upset him. He returned to the shop hoping to find the demon already there. He wasn’t. The angel had sat for a bit, before going out again. He checked out the little cocktail bar, but there was no sign of his demon.

As he wandered aimlessly through the grey streets of London Aziraphale tried not to worry. Crowley was sure to be alright, he was a demon, he could look after himself. What did it matter if he wanted to stay out late without saying where he was going or who he was meeting? He wasn’t keeping him on a lead.

No matter how much he tried to reassure himself that there was nothing to worry about he couldn’t help but worry. Eventually he decided to take a leaf out of the demon’s book and try to sleep.

Sleeping wasn’t something he normally did. He enjoyed reading too much to waste a large number of hours with his eyes shut, but he couldn’t concentrate now and wanted to pass the time until Crowley was back.

It was many hours before he was woken by the sound of someone surreptitiously opening and closing the door to the bookshop. It was well after midnight and he was a little groggy from the unaccustomed sleep.

“Crowley, is that you?”

There was a crash from downstairs and his eyes flew open. He had no immediate sense of danger, but a ‘crash’ was not a good noise to hear in a bookshop. He rushed downstairs and found his demon, somewhat the worse for wear, apologising to a pile of books he’d just knocked over.

“Crowley! You’re alright. What happened?” he exclaimed.

“Shhhh, might wake the angel” the demon slurred, then, on seeing who it was, smiled widely. “You’re awake!”

“Well, I am now” answered the other testily. Even though he didn’t normally sleep (and didn’t need sleep) he was somewhat tetchy at being woken up. “Where were you?”

He hadn’t meant to sound so cross, it should have been a mildly curious enquiry but he’d made it sound almost like an accusation. 

“Whaddya mean ‘where was I’? I was out”. Crowley’s tone was indignant. It didn’t help that he was quite drunk and had had a stressful evening; in short: he was irritable already. Hastur had freaked him out with his weird behaviour, he’d realised the extent to which he’d got himself trapped in this deal and he’d drunk a large quantity of champagne to make up for it. He was not in the mood to be questioned, he wanted sympathy.

Aziraphale had no way of knowing that what Crowley really wanted was a hug and a cup of cocoa. As far as he was concerned he’d asked a simple question (albeit in a little bit of a sharp voice) and had been confronted by a very drunk demon being unaccountably cross at him.

“If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine”. Again it didn’t quite come out as he’d intended. It was meant to be a reassurance - he really didn’t need Crowley to tell him where he’d been. It had come out as if he was genuinely upset. It was too late to fix it though, and maybe he was actually a little upset that the demon didn’t trust him enough to say where he’d been.

“Well, I don’t want to tell you” the other shouted loudly, frowning through the haze of booze. Something was wrong, his angel wasn’t the possessive sort, didn’t demand to know where he’d been. Was he misreading the situation?

Aziraphale realised he’d upset the red-head now and was, perversely, irritated by it. Obviously he didn’t have a problem with Crowley going out wherever and with whoever he wanted. It was just…. He tried to put his finger on why he was annoyed. Ah yes, it was that he had been so weirdly secretive about it.

“Keep your secrets dear, it doesn’t make any difference to me!” Now he just sounded petty. Deciding he wasn’t going to steer this conversation back to where he wanted it to be, he tried to start again. “Well, it’s nice you’re back anyway, maybe we can have a drink now?”

Crowley had gone from wanting a drink and a chat with the angel to being annoyed with him and announced he was going to go to sleep. He stamped up the stairs and slammed the door to the bedroom.

They unconsciously mirrored each other’s thoughts, both wondering why the other had caused a scene. They were both irritated by their partner's unnecessary overreaction and felt aggrieved by it too.

The next morning dawned and Crowley realised he had an almighty hangover. He felt obscurely that he had somehow been hard done by and wanted sympathy so didn't attempt to miracle away the pounding headache. He would talk to the angel while looking (and feeling) a little fragile and they would sort it out.

He stumbled down the stairs bleary eyed to find the bookshop open. This was unusual. What was more unusual was that Aziraphale seemed to be in deep conversation with a customer.

It was particularly bad timing as Crowley had decided that he had behaved badly the night before and had screwed himself up to telling the angel about Hastur and the deal. If he was honest (and a tad pathetic) he was sure the angel would forgive him.

Aziraphale had decided he had overreacted the night before too and wanted to apologise. He had decided he needed to reassure Crowley that he genuinely didn’t need to know where he’d been.

Unfortunately the would-be-book-buyer spoiled the moment for both of them.

As the demon watched his angel’s jittery glances in his direction he could feel his courage retreating. He really didn’t want to talk about Hastur now, in fact why should he have to? The angel had no right to know. Actually, now he thought about it, he didn’t think he had behaved that badly at all. It had been the angel who’d immediately demanded to know where he’d been. Why should he have to explain himself?

As the angel tried to hurry the human along he could see the demon in the background starting to get irritated again. Well, it was tough. This was a shop and he had to deal with customers. This was just typical of him, he got so irritated when everything didn’t go his way immediately. Maybe he had overreacted last night but he wasn’t going to apologise now, not when the demon was making such a fuss just because he had a customer to talk to.

By the time the customer left both were in a bad mood and neither wanted to talk. Crowley grunted in the angel’s direction and headed straight out.

Aziraphale fumed for a few seconds before deciding he wasn’t going to put up with this. He closed the shop and headed out after the demon, following at a discrete distance. If he wouldn’t tell him where he was going then he would jolly well find out for himself!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found myself getting irritated at both parties in this, but it kind of wrote itself once I got started so I let them carry on being idiots. Communication is key in a relationship and you’d have thought after 6,000 years they’d be somewhat better at it…. However, even the best suited and most well intentioned individuals sometimes get it wrong…
> 
> Ligur gets a bit more attention next chapter - I’m sorry he kind of dropped out for a while but I’ve been trying to do a fair amount of juggling between plot/relationships atm and Ligur *has* been ill… enough excuses - he’s in the next chapter!


	22. Demonic Convalescence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Hastur gadding about learning human stuff Amy and Ligur are left alone. The convalescence is progressing and Ligur feels better, if a little neglected.
> 
> A little back-story for the demons and maybe a little fluff….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes - Hastur and Ligur are both ‘cute’ in this (cute-ish) and I stand by it! I guess it’s turning into a bit of a redemption arc for both of them, more of that as we progress….

With Hastur off shopping and clubbing Amy and Ligur were alone in the flat. This was the longest time he’d been away since the kidnapping and Amy had a moment of panic. What if Hastur didn’t come back and she was left locked in the flat with the sick demon until they ran out of food?

Ligur was feeling a little better today. He was still weak and his head felt like it was stuffed with some fuzzy damp stuff that stopped him thinking clearly. However, he was getting a bit fed up of sitting in this warm pile of blankets with nothing to do all day.

On the second attempt he managed to get himself sitting upright without the help of the mound of pillows. That was better, he could at least see round the room properly now. What he saw made him smile. It was just like Hastur!

His fellow demon had always liked colourful things. In what he was starting to think of as their ‘nest’ were coloured lights, colourful pieces of cloth with different patterns on the walls and over the windows and coloured floor coverings piled up in layers. There were the familiar burners from the lower pits of Hell and some comfortable looking bits of human furniture too.

Ligur had a difficult relationship with colour. Memories from Heaven were always slightly hazy but he recalled making the colourful little fish that lived in exotic tropical regions. They had swum in and out of colourful anemone fronds, such pretty little things.

It hurt him to think about them now. He missed being able to add colour to things, control the full spectrum of light, to create beauty. That ability had been taken away from him when he fell, in the darkness of Hell everything was monochrome and dull. He was sure that was why She had given his demon persona the colourful chameleon and colour changing eyes. It was a spiteful attempt to remind him of Heaven just enough for him to miss it.

He had the last laugh though. He didn't see the bright lizard on the top of his head, nor his own ever changing colourful eyes, but Hastur did and Hastur loved colour. He had first got to know Hastur properly after the incident with the rip in space-time - when he had been an angel of uncertain name. In his mind Ligur always inserted ‘Hastur’ into the name-shaped gap in his memory.

He remembered more of Heaven than most demons, which was both a good and a bad thing. The things about Heaven that he missed - the colour and the light and the feeling of security - were unknown to his fellow demons. It made him feel isolated from them. Hastur, at least, retained the memory of the hole he’d found in reality - mainly the sense of dread at what he’d found, but a little of the comfort that the angel-now-known-as Ligur had given him. This was one of the many reasons why he wanted to stay close to him.

As an angel, Hastur had had always been slightly odd. The dark matter smudging his white robes, it’s static making his frizzy blond hair stand on end. His eyes had also started to black out from exposure to the dark material of space. He was slightly awkward around the other angels too. He'd spent too much time alone behind the stars, with no-one to talk to, to be comfortable socialising.

However, Ligur had noticed him and been friendly. He supposed that was why the strange angel had found him after he'd made his discovery. He was rambling, clearly distressed, needed someone to look after him. Ligur had looked after him.

He remembered holding onto the other and calming him. Listening to his weird story. He'd believed him too, that's why he'd joined him in the rebellion. 

Ligur remembered others thing as well. His companion's love of colour was not new. He’d been fascinated with the pretty, colourful sea fish Ligur had made. He also remembered that, as an angel, he'd made something for Hastur, some things in fact. He'd got in trouble over them.

The were weird creatures, with tentacles like the ones Hastur had described from his glimpse of the things that inhabited the not-so-nothing of outside-space. They had colour too, bright colours of all sorts that they could flash at will. He'd given them access to all the colours so far created especially to please Hastur. In tribute to the angel's work he'd also given the odd sea beasts the ability to squirt out pure black, like the sticky dark matter Hastur worked with.

He remembered showing him the creatures and his delight at them - although he had to stop him poking them repeatedly to make the ink flood out. They were still swimming earth's oceans for all he knew. Octopus and squid and cuttlefish. Beautiful and colourful, when they wished to be, with weird eyes and black ink ready at their disposal.

He was proud of his creation, despite the Archangels’ displeasure and stern rebuke to stick to ‘normal looking’ sea creatures in future. He didn't think Hastur remembered though. Now they were on earth he might tell him about them, even find some to show him, but he had to get better first.

He tried to push himself to his feet, but fell back onto the bed. The human ran through at the noise. She was worried about him.

"Careful Mr Demon, it's too early for you to be walking about" Ligur just grunted at her and started trying to rise again.

"Now look here" said the human in an angry voice. He looked towards her, but there was nothing to see, so he carried on with what he was doing.

"Hastur won't be pleased if you injure yourself. Be sensible now. Look, I'll prop you up, let you look round. Hastur got all this for you, he wants you better, not hurting yourself trying to get up too early".

Ligur was surprised. The human seemed to know his Hastur, seemed worried about what he would think. He looked at her properly. She was wearing something sparkly in bright green, Hastur would like that, and she appeared genuinely concerned.

"Where's Hastur?" He asked.

"He went out, said it was important. Now lets get you settled Mr Demon".

"Ligur, I'm called Ligur" the human smiled and told him she was called Amy. Yes, he thought he remembered Hastur saying that name. She offered him soup, which sounded nice.

Amy fed the sick demon soup. He thanked her using her name. It felt like real progress.

"How do you know Hastur? Why are you helping us?"

This was a little tricky. She tried to explain about the kidnapping without sounding angry about it. The other demon grinned at her. "So he grabbed you and locked you up 'til you agreed to help? Threatened you?"

"Well, yeah, I guess so, but I want to help. Hastur has been kind really, he only wants to make sure you get better". Amy saw this line of reasoning wasn't working. It looked like Ligur was getting annoyed. She tried again.

"I was going home from the hospital, he must have been lurking in the shadows or something. Next thing I know I'm locked up here with a crazy guy saying he's a demon". That seemed to work better. The other was smiling now.

"Was you scared?" By the way he looked at her she knew there was only one right answer. "Yes, very".

The other sat back in his nest, apparently satisfied with the response. "Yeah, Hastur's good at scaring you humans. But you come round to his way of thinking. You're doing what he wants now, right?"

Amy wasn't sure how to reply so decided on honesty. "Not that I have much choice, but yeah. I want to help him, make him happy".

"Humph. That's good. We both want him happy then eh Amy?" She just nodded.

Ligur was happy. Hastur was looking after him and he'd got this human trained up to help too. He was feeling a lot better now. It was possible it was the soup. He'd never really had human food before, but he was getting to like it.

"More soup now Amy. I like soup" he instructed her and she scurried off coming back with two bowls. He sat up to eat the human ate some too.

"What is soup exactly?" He asked, suddenly curious. Amy explained how you made soup. He liked the bit where you killed a chicken and boiled its bones. Killing things was fun.

After eating Ligur lay back in the nest, content again. The human bustled around taking out soup bowls and straightening the blankets, puffing up pillows and making sure the braziers were filled with coals. She then went to leave.

"Can you stay Amy? Don't want to be on my own". Ligur was annoyed to note he sounded just a little pathetic. He was a demon bless it. He should be terrifying, not lonely and desperate for company.

The human didn't seem to notice though and just nodded, sitting down next to him. Ligur wasn't sure what to say now. It felt a little awkward. He'd never really spent any time around humans. He decided to tell her about things he and Hastur had done.

Amy listened to the demon. He was telling her about strange things that happened probably thousands of years ago. The high priests and priestesses of ancient Egypt, the library at Alexandria, Viking invasions and crusades in medieval Europe. 

Apart from the rather disturbing themes of arson and murder it was fascinating. He and Hastur had done so much together and the memories mostly seemed to be happy, although he skipped over the time they spent ‘downstairs’.

She encouraged Ligur to talk. He seemed to be enjoying it, almost showing off to her. He remembered to use her name and liked it when she asked questions. This was good. She thought she'd made a connection with the sick demon. Maybe they wouldn't kill her now.

Amy had fallen asleep by the time Hastur got back. He woke her and shooed her out of the room in a slightly unsteady way. She went to bed reasonably happy, looking back to see the two demons cuddled up together in the blanket nest, whispering to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enough of happy snuggles - we’re back to the Azira/Crowley misunderstandings next chapter - and a guest-appearance by an unwelcome Archangel (tag to be added on update - just to try and preserve a little mystery).


	23. Aziraphale Follows Crowley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale is following Crowley - wondering what he’s up to and worrying about their communications disconnect. Are they going to sort it out? It’s quite clear they both want to…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda given away who the Archangel is as he’s now tagged - he isn’t in it much as this is a mainly demon-focused story (and the Armageddon II plot-line with Adam that will pick up again later - promise)

The usually vivid and colourful shop fronts were muted by a persistent drizzle. The streets were empty, the more ostentatious of Soho’s inhabitants were tucked away in whatever secret places they retired to.

Aziraphale’s angelic aura subtly deterred the mean, little rain-drips and a barely noticeable glow enveloped him. Around him everything felt grey and flat, like the day had failed to start properly, still mired in a dull half-light.

He was already regretting his snap decision to follow the demon. It felt like a sneaky underhand thing to do and it didn't make him feel very good. He was pretty sure he was doing the wrong thing now.

He ploughed on though, feeling that, having started being sneaky, he might as well finish it. He recalled that the problems had all started when he'd been sneaky the first time. When he'd tried to do good without the demon knowing.

Was all this his fault? That was a strange thought. All what exactly? When he tried to pin it down there wasn't really any substance to it. All he had was a feeling that he and the demon weren't getting on as well as they had been.

He justified himself by remembering that Crowley had definitely been acting oddly. All this going out all day on his own, sneaking out for drinks with people he didn't want Aziraphale to know about, getting all defensive when questioned. Yes, it certainly seemed like the demon was up to something.

The angel couldn't quite shift the thought that he was being unfair. He had almost decided to catch up with Crowley, to confess his fears, his stupid impulse to follow the other, apologise and make friends again. Something, however, stopped him from doing it.

….…

Crowley was not in a good mood. It was all Hastur's fault. That froggy bastard had ruined everything. It had all been going so well until Hastur had turned up.

Actually, that wasn't really true was it? He'd been bored before, stuck in the new arrangement not to interfere, but dearly wanting to cause just a little bit of trouble. Then, yes then…..well Aziraphale's underhand do-goodery gave him just the excuse he'd been looking for.

The thought shocked him. Had he been waiting for an excuse? If so.... well if so, it meant it wasn't Aziraphale's fault at all. He'd been looking for a reason to go to the bad. Back to the bad. Become a demon again.

He reviewed his recent behaviour. Firstly he'd blown up a minor indiscretion by the angel into a huge row. Secondly he'd told Hastur all about it and agreed with the other demon that he wanted revenge.

Thirdly, well thirdly he'd bound himself into a deal, a blessed unbreakable deal(!), with his worst enemy just to get back at Aziraphale for what? For something he'd already accepted he'd overreacted about.

He sighed. No matter which way he cut it his behaviour did not sound good. Determined to continue prodding the sore spot he carried on. Four: well four was that he'd gone through with it, carried out Hell's temptations without thinking about it, enjoying it even. Finally he'd been so irritable and angry at the poor angel last night.

His head was still aching and the clinging, misty droplets of not-quite rain were soaking through his jacket. He regretted his impulse to storm out and admitted to himself what an idiot he'd been. He nearly turned on the spot and headed back to the bookshop. He dearly wanted to apologise, to make things right. Something, however, stopped him from doing it.

….…

The something in both cases was a sudden angelic aura in the air. Aziraphale ducked into the nearest shop as he saw the demon spin round looking for the source. He was perplexed. It wasn't him that had let out the strong blast of holy energy. He had more self restraint.

Peering out through the glass door, trying to spot the angel, he heard someone clearing their throat in a meaningful way. He slowly took stock of his surroundings. Ah, it was a shop selling ladies' undergarments.

He was surrounded by little wispy, lacy and gauzy things with hardly any substance to them. They wouldn't be much use keeping the poor women warm on a winter's evening he thought irrelevantly.

"Can I help you?" The shop assistant asked meaningfully. Aziraphale flushed and began to stutter. The young man put on a patient, long suffering face while the angel continued with a series of incoherent noises.

"Is it for a girlfriend?" He asked hesitantly, looking the other up and down, before adding in a lower voice "or something for yourself?" Aziraphale decided it was best to invent a girlfriend.

The young man clearly didn't believe him, but helped him pick out a set of garments held together with lace and some little strappy bits. It was very expensive (and also in Aziraphale’s size). The shop-assistant had had many customers over the years and was quite convinced this one didn’t have a girlfriend whatever he may say.

Crowley, meanwhile, had scarpered. He hadn't been able to pin down where the blast of energy had come from, but it hurt his inner demon. He'd spent so much time around his angel that he had almost forgotten how much holy energy could sting.

A wave of gratitude washed over him. Aziraphale had never allowed his natural energy to build up to a level high enough to hurt him. He would go back and apologise....well as soon as he got started on this batch of temptations anyway.

….…

Gabriel wasn't happy with his mission. No, no, that wasn't right. He was always happy to do Her work, he was really! Having been reprimanded for attempting to destroy the renegade angel trying to convince him to come back certainly seemed like the right thing to do. It's just that he would much rather have sent someone else to do it.

He had pondered at length how best to convince Aziraphale and come up blank. Michael had suggested apologising, an unpleasantly satisfied smile on her face. That was a last resort option he supposed. In the meanwhile he decided to watch his target in the hope he found an opportunity.

He thought he now had such an opportunity. The demon had messed up. He'd seen it, well felt it really. He was doing temptations. All he had to do was tell Aziraphale and that would be an end to all this dallying. He'd be back working for Heaven and no need to apologise.

….…

As Aziraphale left the shop he was confronted by Gabriel. It gave him a shock. "W..w..what are you doing here?" He stuttered out before remembering this wasn't his boss and he had the upper-hand.

"You're meant to be leaving us alone" he said in a much sterner voice. He frowned at Gabriel to give more weight to his words.

"Ah, yes. Leaving you alone. Sure. That's right" Gabriel grinned widely not sure how to carry on. He had forgotten he needed to actually explain things. "Only, thing is, your demon isn't leaving things alone is he?"

Gabriel was still smiling expectantly, but Aziraphale had no idea why. "Look, just, just... Go away. Alright?" He almost pulled off sounding annoyed.

Gabriel was rapidly losing his composure. "I don't think you understood. Your demon. Crowley. Is. Working. For. Hell". He looked meaningfully at the other angel.

"I don't believe you" Aziraphale said decisively.

Gabriel turned a darker shade and huffed. "I'm the Archangel Gabriel, I don't lie, I can't lie, get it?" The other angel was shaking his head. "It doesn't matter what you believe anyway. I'll show you" the Archangel added in a very cross sounding voice.

A snap of his fingers and they were standing in a park, in some bushes in fact. The first thing he noticed was the Archangel tutting at the mud on his pristine shoes, the next was Crowley.

The demon was stood a little way off watching the ducks. It didn't appear he was going to tempt anyone. The angel almost walked away but Gabriel put out a hand, holding him back.

That's when he saw it. His demon, who had promised not to interfere, doing just that. It seemed like a harmless act. Littering. A woman dropped an empty bread wrapper after feeding the ducks thinking a little thing like that didn’t matter and the bins were so far away. That was it. The demon walked away.

Aziraphale stayed though. At first he thought it was a minor sloth thing - she’d just been too lazy to walk to the bin - then he concentrated. He saw the wider effects. It was oblique to be sure. One dropped bread wrapper, the woman would do it again though. He could almost feel the thoughts.

If she could dump a bread wrapper, why not that stuff the builders had left? Only a few bits and the Council charged so much to take rubbish away. Sin-wise it still seemed minor, annoying and definitely bad, but not enough to damn a soul surely?

The onward effects were not as clear, still ghostly as they formed. More rubbish dumped, a van, a company charging less than the Council to remove rubbish. Money piling up. Greed. Avarice at the expense of her fellow humans, destruction of the environment to make money. The little sins multiplied. The cumulative effect would be enough to damn her.

Was all that inspired by dropping one bread wrapper? He checked the woman's thoughts again. It wasn't certain even now. He surreptitiously conjured up some holy energy and prompted a man to pick up the wrapper and run after the woman.

"You dropped something love. These should go in the bin" he said in a slightly sanctimonious voice. She shoved past, ignoring him and he sighed taking the wrapper to the nearest bin himself and walking away. Being caught, however, interrupted the trail of events. There would be no company illegally dumping rubbish in her future.

Gabriel sighed happily. "There you go see? Doing good, it's in your nature, just like doing evil is in his. If he's going to tempt them shouldn't you at least undo the damage? Even things up. It's only fair after all. Come on, whaddya say? Working for Heaven, it's in your nature! Just like old times". He grinned at Aziraphale and wiggled an eyebrow.

The angel was not tempted. Gabriel could see he wasn't from the start, but had persisted with his speech. You see the problem was that angels, and especially Archangels, are not good at temptations and Gabriel was a good Archangel.

Actually, reviewing certain events involving Hell-fire, he was probably a very bad Archangel, but he still couldn't do a temptation to save his corporation. Aziraphale walked off not having agreed to work for Heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we see the difference between Angels and Demons when it comes to temptation!
> 
> Moving back to the demon couple next chapter and we will find out what’s at the back of some of Hastur’s naivety. Realise I’m contrasting quite a lot between the two couples - with Azira/Crowley coming off worse unfortunately. I always felt there was a little tension between the two ‘hereditary enemies’ (as well as the obvious affection) so I guess I’m playing out that side of things here….


	24. Just Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur is back at the flat with Ligur (where he belongs really) - after an exhausting night of drinking and dancing he’ll need to process his new experiences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that these are demons we’re dealing with - they were angels then fell from grace and were relegated to Hell where they started new (evil) existences. At no point are they immature or children - even at the start. This note won’t make sense until the end….

Hastur got in from his night out full of champagne, espresso martini and enthusiasm. He tried to demonstrate his new found knowledge about kissing on Ligur, then both demons fell asleep, or more 'fell unconscious' in Hastur's case.

Amy found them, still cuddled together and both snoring gently, in the morning. Her first thought of 'awww bless them' was suppressed. They were demons and certainly not bless-worthy, if that was even a word.

They were sweet though. At least, she thought so, until she remembered some of Ligur's stories from the night before. She amended her thoughts again: arson and murder aside, they were pretty sweet.

She crept into the kitchen and made coffee, getting milk from the fridge. The fridge had never worked, but she kept stuff in it anyway. After telling Hastur a fridge stopped food going off, it appeared to have acquired the ability to preserve pretty much anything, pretty much indefinitely.

Frying pan on and bacon cooking she peered round the door at the two sleeping demons. Hastur's eyes shot open. "What happened?!" He yelled, waking up the other demon.

"Whaddya mean? You was asleep" answered Ligur groggily. It took his companion a while to digest this information.

"There was things, things happening, like a big fight an' I was gonna lose and get killed and you was dead, like properly dead, and, and..." Hastur slowly looked around the room. Ligur wasn't dead. He wasn't in a fight. He remembered he'd won the fight already and that was why he was on earth.

Amy sniggered from the doorway. "You had a nightmare! A demon having a nightmare!!" She started laughing in earnest now, seemingly unable to stop.

Hastur glared angrily and started glowing Hell-fire from one hand, but Ligur held him back. "Nah Hast. She's right, sounds like a nightmare… and a demon having a nightmare is quite funny" he started laughing too.

Hastur looked from one to the other of them, both now laughing uncontrollably. He scowled. It wasn't fair them laughing at him just because he’d had a nightmare. He'd had a nightmare! A demon having a nightmare. Suddenly it struck him as funny and he laughed too.

Ligur and Amy were calming down when Hastur alarmingly started screeching with what they hoped was amusement. They made eye contact and Ligur winked, then started laughing again. Amy joined in very nervously. These were vicious demons at the end of the day, she didn’t want to upset them.

When Hastur's laughter subsided he turned to Amy. "Show him how humans do kissin' - he dunt understand how to do it properly". He indicated Ligur, who looked alarmed at the suggestion.

Amy's heart sank. She'd really started to believe that the demons didn't want to hurt her. She thought she knew what kissing Ligur would lead to and panicked.

Hastur was alarmed when the human started screaming and crying. He thought she'd got over that phase. He tried to calm her using the hugging technique that had worked before, but this time it seemed to make it worse. He put his hand over her mouth and nose to stop the noise.

…...

When Amy regained consciousness she was surprised to find herself unharmed and still fully clothed. Ligur seemed to have an arm round her and Hastur was watching nervously from a distance.

"See Hast, she ain't dead". Was it her imagination or did Hastur look relieved?

"What is it with you humans? Eh? Always thinkin' I wanna have sex with you, told you I didn't". Hastur looked sulky and irritated.

"You said... you asked me to... to kiss him" Amy gulped out.

Ligur's arm tightened around her shoulder and he rumbled into her ear. "Dunt listen to him Amy. I wouldn't let ya. I ain't kissin' no humans".

Hastur scowled at his partner. "I only wanted her to show you how it works. You keep biting, you're not meant to bite".

Ligur grinned "don't pretend you dunt like it". Amy was feeling somewhat awkward, caught between the two demons. As if sensing her discomfort Ligur said "hadn't you better do something with soup? Kill another chicken or sommat".

She fled from the room just catching Hastur's response to the other demon "how come you got her killin’ stuff? She dint wanna kill that pig I got her".

Once Amy had left he continued: "why do all these humans keep thinking I want to have sex with them?" A slightly petulant whine to his voice.

Ligur blinked at Hastur a few times. He wasn’t exactly an expert on humans but he thought he could understand why Amy was alarmed. “You grabbed her, dragged her off to a flat and locked her in the bedroom, then you ask her to kiss me and you’re wonderin’ why she thinks you might want to have sex with her!?”

Hastur huffed “alright, but what about the others?”

This statement required some explanation, which Ligur was quick to point out. His partner started hesitantly describing what had happened.

He started talking about buying drinks for humans, calling them by name, smiling at them, talking and dancing with them, even kissing them. He stopped himself. It suddenly didn’t seem so surprising that they thought he might want to have sex with them. He was quite panicked.

“I dunt wanna get involved in all that messy human stuff, dunt know how it works even”.

Ligur eyed him curiously “you was in old Asmo’s lecture group for Lust wasn’t you? Should know all about it if you had ‘im, I was stuck with one of the demons from the seventh circle - dint know his arse from his elbow - which was pretty awkward for teaching Lust!” Ligur laughed at his own joke.

Hastur simply looked shifty. Once Ligur had finished laughing he said quietly “I never liked Asmodeus’s lectures. He used to pick on me. It was always ‘oh come up here and we’ll do a demonstration Hastur’ and ‘tell us about your course-work Hastur’. Couldn’t stand it”.

“Yeah, but you still got the qualification dint you? Your group got a field trip to earth too. Up to one of them harems, or nunneries, or sommat. I never got that”.

Hastur was looking more shifty by the minute “never went on the trip, kinda dropped it before then”. He was looking at the floor and seemed unwilling to meet Ligur’s eye.

“Can’t drop one of the seven deadlies - that’s core curriculum, all demons gotta study it... even ones who ain’t ever gonna use it like ugly old Agares”. Ligur laughed again, but was cut short by Hastur.

“Well I dropped it. Fed up wiv that lecherous old git pawing at me in front of the whole group. Used to go out for a ciggie; wait ‘til Beelzebub started Gluttony. Quite liked Gluttony. Do you remember the first exam where we all got drunk an’ had kebabs? I think Dagon was sick on someone”.

Ligur wouldn’t be sidetracked however, saying incredulously “you never passed Lust?”

Hastur was shaking his head, still looking at the floor.

“You’re a Duke though! Can’t get a Dukedom without at least a pass in all of the seven”. The other demon sounded incredulous. “How’d you get a Dukedom without Lust?”

“Mighta lied on the application form” admitted the tall demon in a quiet voice.

Ligur started laughing again. When he finally subsided he looked fondly at his companion saying “I knew there was a reason I always liked you. Only you could bare-face lie to Satan himself an’ get away wiv it!” He started laughing again.

Hastur grinned widely. He was glad Ligur appreciated him. It had been a good trick and worth it to get away from Asmodeus. He’d got along for best part of six thousand years with an ‘Ungraded’ result in Lust, so it clearly didn’t make that much of a difference.

He frowned to himself. Humans seemed to think about it a lot though and, so far as he’d observed, humans generally devoted as much of their time as possible to things that were fun. He’d discovered, after thousands of years avoiding it, that he liked kissing, even if Ligur did sometimes bite (maybe *because* he did). What if the rest of Lust was fun too? He’d never considered this before.

“You passed Lust then?” He asked tentatively.

“Only just - bought an advance copy of the exam paper from some imp at a dive-bar in Pandæmonium, cost me a whole bag of them shiny things and they wasn’t easy to come by when Hell was first formed, remember?” Ligur looked nostalgic.

“.…but you passed the exam… and the practical?” Hastur was a little hesitant. Ligur was nodding.

“Wassit like? The practical I mean” Hastur asked, looking away and cringing slightly as he said it. If his fellow demon had found his nightmare hilarious he was sure to find the idea of a virgin demon really funny. The laughter, however, didn't come.

Looking up he found he was being watched and immediately felt embarrassed. It was a fairly new feeling for him and he didn't like it. He tried to backtrack "I mean, obviously I know the theory, it's just sorta’ the actual *doin’ it* bit, y'know…. It doesn't really matter, just that, well, I did just wonder, and, and... oh forget it" he stuttered to an angry halt.

Ligur hastened to reassure him. “I only just passed the practical an’ I cheated in the exam. We was always better with Avarice eh Hast? Y’know the humans even used a ‘toad’ to symbolize greed in engravings an’ stuff. Nah, we done alright steering clear of it all these years. Don’t worry about it”.

He replied sulkily “ I dunt mind just inspiring them to do it to each other, just dunt wanna have to learn all them details, far too complicated, an’ I wasn’t gonna give that ‘orrible Asmo a change to demonstrate on me no more”.

Ligur signalled for him to come and sit back down and they did the demon equivalent of hugging. It was considerably more dangerous than the human kind and required some healing miracles afterwards.

After a while Hastur thought he was feeling better so released his partner from his tight grip. He was however, still feeling curious about the human obsession with Lust and resolved to ask his newly acquired assistant about it. Yes Crowley was bound to know all about it, or at least point him towards some helpful sources of information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The demon school was an idea I had a while back and created a little short about it - it’s more a form of higher (lower?) education or maybe a vocational/workplace training thing than a school though. The note at the start was to clarify that (although Hastur being harassed is not meant to be trivialised*) he wasn’t a kid when it happened. It should, however, explain some of his naivety when it comes to interpersonal stuff, which would otherwise be a little odd in a 6,000+ year old demon… that and I have an irresistible urge to invent reasons to feel sorry for the (adorable little) evil bastard…
> 
> *you can, of course, read it as comedy - up to you!


	25. An Attempted Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley steels himself to apologise for being ‘off’ the other night - will he manage to screw up the courage to talk about his deals with Hastur as well? Aziraphale hasn’t behaved perfectly either - following poor Crowley and talking to Gabriel - even if it wasn’t deliberate. Will they finally sort things out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear - a bit more angst I’m afraid. I’m sorry to say I find I’m enjoy writing out some relationship problems for the demon/angel couple

Back at the bookshop Aziraphale was agitated. Gabriel’s attempt to get him to come back and work for Heaven had concerned him. They were meant to be leaving him alone, but clearly still had him and the demon under observation.

That led on to him worrying that, if Heaven were still watching him, were Hell still watching Crowley? Was that what was behind his recent behaviour. Had Hell somehow managed to threaten or cajole him into coming back to work for them? Had it really been Hastur he was talking to?

He dearly wanted to talk to his demon and get to the bottom of things. He was also hurt, it felt like a lack of trust. If Hell were at the bottom of all this why hadn’t Crowley simply told him? The demon should know well enough that he, Aziraphale, could be depended on to always stand by his friend.

He tried to settle to read and was actually quite absorbed in his book when the door opened. He looked up and saw a dejected looking Crowley and his heart immediately went out to him.

“Come here dear, you look worn out. Let me get you a drink”. He took the other’s arm and steered him to a seat.

Crowley was relieved. Aziraphale was clearly in a good mood and now, finally, they might be able to sort out all this confusion. He took the proffered seat.

Drinks in hand they looked at each other and smiled. This was better.

Crowley opened the conversation: “I’m sorry I overreacted last night, I shouldn’t have snapped”.

Well, that was a start Aziraphale supposed. He looked at the demon expectantly waiting for him to go on. After a few moments silence he spoke “yes, well, I think I overreacted too, if you want to go out on your own that’s fine, really fine. Of course you have your own friends and if you want to see them then I shouldn’t be silly about it. If it was a friend that is…?”

There was the hint of a question to the last sentence that confused Crowley. He’d been trying to screw up the courage to tell Aziraphale about his accidental deal with Hastur (deals now he reminded himself). The opening had gone fine, but what was this about friends?

"What do you mean *if* it was a friend?" He was genuinely curious as to what the angel meant.

"Well, you know. If he wasn't a friend, maybe if he was someone you didn't want to see...or...or" he ran out of words at the point.

"He? How do you know I was with a 'he'?" The shock that Aziraphale knew he’d met someone meant that he almost shouted the question.

"Or she, could be a she" Aziraphale hastened to add.

"Hang on, how do you know I was with anyone? I just said I was going out".

"Ahem, as to that, well, I might just have gone out too and, well you know how it is, just happened to see you talking with someone..." he realised the demon was staring at him in disbelief. Even though it was entirely accidental that he’d seen him he still felt guilty about it, so ill-advisedly added "pure coincidence I assure you".

"You followed me?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Aziraphale dithered, he hadn’t been intentionally following Crowley the first time… but then he had followed him deliberately after that. If he denied following him it would technically be a lie because he had, but not that time.

He was confused and couldn't stand to lie, even if it was a technical lie, so forced himself to admit "yes. Only my dear, only because you were being so secretive about it and then I was really worried. Gabriel has been watching me, what if Hell were watching you?"

"What if they are? Do you think they scare me? Think I can't manage Hastur on my own?" The demon snapped back angrily.

"Hastur! So it was him I saw you with. What have you got yourself into?" Real concern showed on Aziraphale's face.

Crowley was too shocked by the revelation that he'd been followed and spied upon to pay much attention. He was also cross with himself for letting Hastur's name slip out.

"I haven't 'got myself' into anything I can't handle, thank you very much". He glared at the other.

"Oh really. So you wouldn't, say, be working for Hell again would you?"

This was said with such confidence that it attracted Crowley's attention. "What gave you that idea?"

Ah, this was going to be difficult. How to explain it without it sounding like he had made a habit of following the demon. "Gabriel said..." he started, but didn't get any further. 

"Gabriel?! You're criticising me for talking to Hastur and you've been chatting away all cosy with Gabriel?" He pulled his glasses off to give the angel the full benefit of his glare this time.

Aziraphale withered under Crowley's angry stare. "He just appeared and he said... he said you were working for Hell again". There, he'd said it.

"...and you believed him, just like that?"

That just wasn't fair "no. No I didn't, but he showed me Crowley. I saw you in the park, with the woman dropping litter. I was there".

"Where? Where were you?" Crowley yelled.

"In a bush" he squeaked out.

The demon's mouth opened and closed a few times in shock.

"If you're in trouble dear. You can trust me" he didn't get any further.

"Trust you? Trust *you*? When you've been following me, hiding in bushes with Archangels, watching me? You ask me to trust you!"

It was Aziraphale's turn to get angry. "It's a good job I did isn't it? You're clearly being threatened by Hastur somehow. You wouldn't do this otherwise. You're in danger and you didn't even tell me!"

"Being threatened? Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't. What if I was just fed up and bored? What if I wanted to cause a bit of trouble? It's not like you've been all hands off is it?"

Aziraphale opened his mouth to say something but Crowley stopped him. "No, I don't see what I've done wrong. You started it, then you've been following me, it's hardly my fault I'm upset".

Finally the angel got a word in "I think we're both upset dear" he said quietly. Something about the sadness in his voice calmed the demon down. What had he said? What had he done? His poor angel, trying to help, getting all upset and worried and he'd shouted at him.

"I'm sorry angel. I didn't mean it, I just... ngk… just needed to get it out of my system. Now I'm in a deal with Hastur and I don't know what to do" he finally admitted.

"Just stop it dear. Stop it right now. There's nothing Hell can do about it, is there?" That hadn't occurred to him before. If he broke the deal what could they do? Nothing that's what....

No, wait a minute. It was an 'unbreakable deal' wasn't it? That created consequences outside of Hell's vengeance. "It's unbreakable angel. I'm bound by it".

He looked dejected, but then brightened up "it's only for a year though. Hastur agreed to that. Not long now and you gotta see that it's so boring for me doing nothing. It's only little things too, nothing big. You can even things up if you want too. It’ll be just like old times. You and me, an angel and a demon: ‘hereditary enemies’, secret best friends. We had a lot of fun didn’t we? What do you say, give it another go?"

Crowley, being a demon, was considerably better at temptations than Gabriel. Aziraphale was tempted, but only for a moment.

"No. I don't think I want to start all that again. We agreed not to interfere and I'm sorry I lapsed, but it won't happen again and I think you need to stop too". He looked at Crowley like a kindly school master trying to get an errant schoolboy to recognise the error of his ways.

"...but, but it's in your nature. In my nature. Surely a few temptations won't matter? We'll go back to normal afterwards, promise". He smiled his best winning smile, lending a little demonic charm to it in the hope it would enhance his chances.

"No Crowley, don't come the wily snake with me! You need to stop". He pouted adorably and Crowley was almost persuaded to drop it. However, there were consequences to consider.

Unbreakable deals were just that: unbreakable. If he tried to break it at the very least he’d lose his corporation and end up back in Hell. At the very most…. he shuddered to think… he'd heard there were pits lined with bits of demons who’d broken unbreakable deals and those were with humans, he’d made one with Hastur!

"It's an unbreakable deal angel. I can't just 'stop'. It's not for long..."

The angel sighed. "Well, if you won't stop I think you and I had better avoid each other for the duration. I simply can't pretend everything is normal when I know you're out doing evil deeds. Go Crowley, go now" and that was that.

Crowley tried to persuade him against it, tired to talk him round, but to no avail. Aziraphale would not be moved. The only concession he got was that once the deal was over, and he wasn't in Hell's employment, they could get together and talk again.

Apart from that Crowley was out on his ear. Homeless and alone. He left the bookshop in a terrible mood. It was not helped by the fact the first person he ran into on leaving was Hastur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So poor Crowley is thrown out and, realistically, only has Hastur to talk to! Previously that would be pretty bad, but now? Who knows….. 
> 
> Well it’s in the next chapter and I couldn’t resist posting two together so if you actually want to know just carry on reading….


	26. Off to the Pub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do humans do when they’ve had an argument with their other half?? Yes, that’s right - Crowley and Hastur are off to the pub! Expanding on Hastur’s unfortunate experiences during his demon training too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fun chapter to write, but for different reasons than the last one....

Hastur was surprised when he cannoned into the object of his search before he even reached the bookshop. Crowley glared at him so angrily that he could sense it even through the dark glasses.

"Why don't you bugger off and leave me alone Hastur? Haven't you caused enough trouble for one century?" He growled at him.

"Need to ask you stuff. Human stuff". Crowley tried to push past him but was prevented by a hand on his shoulder. "We got a deal snake" Hastur growled.

"Yeah, yeah, don't I know it! Go on then: whaddya need to know?"

Hastur was suddenly lost for words. He stood looking at the shorter demon for a long while until Crowley shook his hand off and made to push past him again.

"It's about Lust" he shouted, causing several heads to turn. Crowley just looked at him in a confused way.

He tried to elaborate: "you passed Lust dint you?"

"With merit! Only just short of a distinction actually. If the practical hadn't been female presenting I'd have aced it". Pride was a sin and one Crowley was exhibiting very well.

After a while of Hastur not saying anything curiosity got the better of him and he carried on "why do you want to know?"

Uncharacteristically for the tall demon he looked uncertain, cowed even. Finally he managed "I didn't".

This just confused the other "didn't what?"

"Pass it, never done a practical, never passed the exam. Wanna know how it works. All these humans thinking about it all the time, how am I meant to deal with them if I dunt know the basics?" The admission was made in a sulky, half confrontational way and he refused to make eye contact.

"Is this a bloody joke?!" Screamed the other demon. Hastur took a step back, taken by surprise by the other's violent reaction.

"I get chucked by Aziraphale and next thing you're asking about Lust! Trying to rub it in are you? Oh that's low, even for a demon that’s low".

Crowley's shoulders slumped and, to Hastur's dismay, it appeared tears were just starting to run down below the glasses. "It's not funny Hastur, I don't like your jokes, just leave me the Heaven alone" he wailed.

He attempted to push past yet again. Hastur felt that weird thing again, like he understood what the other was feeling. Understood it and didn't like it. He hated it when demons made jokes around him, about him.

"It's not a joke. I didn't know that angel had been stupid enough to throw you out. I just need to know about human stuff".

Crowley was not looking convinced, he was also radiating misery. For some reason this didn’t make Hastur feel as good as it usually would. In fact, the waves of unhappiness were actually very unpleasant, he didn’t like them at all, they were making him unhappy in response. What would make him feel better? Ah yes: he needed to cheer Crowley up.

He pondered how to do this. Remembering his televisual education he hit on a plan. He knew what humans did when someone they knew was unhappy about a relationship - it was simple. “Let's go and consume some alcohol, lots of alcohol in fact. Might make you feel better.... Can't make you feel worse anyway".

It seemed to be a successful suggestion as Crowley smiled. "Get drunk? That's a wonderful idea". He took Hastur's arm and steered him in a determined way into a nearby pub with a limp rainbow flag outside and opaque windows of stained glass.

Several drinks later Crowley had given Hastur chapter and verse on the argument. The other's response was unexpected (and a little drunken).

"Sod 'im. He dunt understand what it's like bein' a demon. Can't sit around being nice all the time. It ain't natural. You tell 'im, tell 'im I says he's n'idiot. Throwing you out like that, jus’ for bein' a demon. Ain't that lot all into forgiveness? Eh? Bloody hypocrites".

Crowley was cheered by this speech and patted the other affectionately on the back. Hastur continued: "bloody stuck up angel: oooh look at me, I'm soooo holy, I jus’ gonna polish my halo" at this he pulled an imaginary halo down from his head and started buffing it on his sleeve.

Crowley laughed excessively and they ordered more drinks. He was feeling considerably better. He was too drunk to really think about why Hastur was the one who had made him feel better. They moved onto shots and soon he wasn't thinking very coherently about anything.

"Whaddya wanna know 'bout Lust anyway?" He jumped back to the other's original query.

The alcohol had done a good job of loosening Hastur's inhibitions. "You passed right? With merit, yeah? How's it work exactly?" He sat back looking at the other expectantly.

Crowley was confused "whaddya mean 'how's it work exactly'? It's Lust, you gotta feel it. Who'd you have lecturing? Not one a'them idiots from the seventh circle?"

"Asmodeus" Hastur said in a quiet voice.

Crowley didn't notice the other's less than enthusiastic response. "Asmo? I had him for the first semester, bloody brilliant. Utter bastard if you caught his fancy, but brilliant".

He still failed, through his drunken haze, to note Hastur's distress. "I remember, yeah, I remember this poor sod in my group. Huge beard he had, an' legs like a chicken, but Asmo took a liking to him. Wouldn't leave him alone, the poor old bastard. Always had him up in front of everyone, ‘demonstrating’ on him". Crowley was laughing at the memory.

He still wasn't paying attention to his companion and carried on with his reminiscences. "Yeah, old Asmo... Apparently there was one in every group. Some poor unfortunate sod an' he'd pick on them all through the course... Utter bastard he was, but knew his stuff; amazing teacher. Who'd he pick on in your class? Anyone I know?"

Crowley turned and belatedly saw Hastur's expression. He suddenly felt very sober. "It... it wasn't was it? He didn't pick on you did he?"

"Yeah" Hastur's answer was barely audible.

"That's why you never passed, you, you.. you can't have dropped it. Seven deadlies is core. What happened?"

"Oh, I dropped it alright. Nearly burned the whole block down on the way out. Jus' left an' didn't ever go back, never finished the course". The explanation was given with a kind of glum pride.

"You didn't?! What, just walked out? And there was no trouble over it?" Crowley was incredulous.

Hastur grinned "trouble? Yeah, you could say there was trouble. Not for me though. I got that old bastard back best way possible, he dint like a bit of Hell-fire up where the sun dunt shine did he now eh? Last I heard he was still walkin' wiv a limp!"

The other demon's eyes nearly popped out of his head, then he started laughing. Having once started to laugh Crowley seemed to have forgotten how to stop. After a couple of seconds Hastur joined in.

Both demons were incapacitated with mirth for some time, holding onto each other for support. Eventually Crowley took a deep breath "now you mention it he did have a limp" and his laughter started up again.

Hastur felt immeasurably better about the whole thing. Apparently he hadn't been the only one to suffer at Asmodeus's hands (and sometimes more than hands) and he - Hastur! - had got revenge. Revenge not only for himself it seemed, but for many other of the fallen too. He felt pride swelling in him.

He remembered why he had bought the subject up in the first place. Taking a deep breath to steady himself he said "anyway the thing is, the thing is... I never done it, the practical stuff that is, an' I wanna know how it works".

Crowley's laughter died. "I can't teach that stuff, wouldn't know where to start" he felt very out of his depth. He suddenly had a moment of panic "I'm not showing you how to do it! You can't make me!"

Hastur was surprised "why would I want to do anything wiv you, ya ugly bastard? I jus' need some tips y'know, how to get started n' stuff. In case... in case I need it for.... for work or sommat".

The hesitation in Hastur's explanation didn't go unnoticed. "Who is it?"

"What do you mean? Who's what?"

Crowley was grinning evilly "don't come all coy with me. You want to brush up your skills for a reason, you've got someone you're interested in haven't you?"

Hastur flushed but didn’t speak. “Is it that human who gave you her number? The one you were kissing” the grin widened.

Hastur hadn’t considered this aspect. He was genuinely curious about what humans saw in all this Lust stuff, but actually ‘doing it’ with one of them hadn’t occurred to him. After his experiences with Asmodeus he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Then again, he wouldn’t be in front of a whole group of giggling demons and it wouldn’t be with a three headed monster with claws for feet either.

“Maybe I could practice with her, like the kissing, that was alright” he was thinking out-loud, the alcohol having overcome his natural caution.

“Practice! You can’t use humans like that!” Crowley almost shouted.

The other demon was confused “why not?”

Crowley realised he’d somewhat overstepped with his boss, then remembered it wasn’t really his boss. He lectured him sternly: “you’ll upset her, she *likes* you. Satan knows why, but she does. It was radiating off her. Not so much Lust, more, more like affection”.

The tall demon creased his brow. The human ‘liked’ him. That was new, he didn’t think a human had ever liked him before. He must be doing something wrong, demons weren’t meant to be likeable. Then again, it didn’t seem to have done any harm and she was pretty and that smile made him feel warm inside, like when he looked at Ligur. It was a very pleasant feeling.

Ah, yes, Ligur… he let his mind wander to the kissing experiment, that had been fun. Maybe he could try some other things on Ligur.

He realised he was thinking out-loud again and had just mumbled “maybe Ligur” in a speculative way.

Crowley had kind of assumed that Hastur and Ligur had been doing things for quite some time so was very surprised to hear this. He was also a little confused. “No good you practising on that human if it’s Ligur you’re after, unless he’s got a surprise under his clothes”. By the other’s completely baffled expression he realised the message wasn’t getting home.

“She is a 'she' Hastur, and Ligur, unless I’m very much mistaken, presents as a 'he'. There are differences. Lots of similarities I grant you, but some *significant* differences”.

Hastur continued to stare at him uncomprehendingly. “At what point exactly did you walk out of Asmo’s lectures?” Crowley asked slowly.

“Ummm, near the start of the first semester, don’t think I even did a whole term”.

Ah, there was going to be a lot Hastur needed to know about if he’d ducked out that early on. A Heaven of a lot. He had an idea.

“Let’s go back to the flat. Maybe I can find you some videos” he thought about it, then added “some basic anatomy would be a start”. At least that way he wouldn’t have to do the whole ‘birds and the bees’ talk in a bar in Soho where the patrons were already only being prevented from staring at them by a series of minor miracles.

Hastur was too drunk to object and let the other steer him off in the direction of Mayfair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No perspective flip this time - next chapter we follow the drunken demons straight back to the Mayfair flat


	27. Hi Honey, I'm Home!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur and Crowley arrive back at the flat - how is Ligur doing….and what about Amy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another demon only chapter (excluding Amy) - I warn you, I’m only just getting into my stride when it comes to demon dynamics/friendships(?)…!!

Hastur managed to navigate up the stairs and, after much fiddling around, deactivated the hexes and unlocked the door. Once inside they heard voices.

"Who's that?" Crowley wondered out loud. On receiving no answer he turned to his companion. The tall demon had stopped and was suddenly looking very shifty. Much more like the Hastur he was familiar with in fact.

"Let's go to the kitchen. Don't want to disturb Ligur". That was intriguing. What was he hiding?

Before Hastur could stop him he walked purposefully into the main room. Here he was confronted by the sight of a woman in a grubby, sequinned dress and Wellington boots chatting quite amiably with one of the fiercest Dukes of Hell. To say he was shocked was an understatement.

Amy looked up expecting it to be her captor back from wherever it was he went. Instead she was faced with a strange man. After a moment of hesitation she leapt to her feet and virtually threw herself at him.

"Oh thank goodness, you've found me! I knew someone would come, but quick we've got to get out of here before the other demon comes back".

Hastur walked in at this point. Amy saw him and collapsed in a fit of tears. "Noooo, no, no, no. It's not fair!"

Surprisingly Ligur got up and put an arm round her. "It's ok Amy. Dunt you worry. My Hastur isn't interested in humans, he won't want the bother of keeping you for too long. Soon be over".

Clearly the demon thought this would be reassuring, but it had the opposite effect. Amy wailed "I knew it, you're going to kill me, you got yourselves a new human" at this she indicated Crowley "and now you're going to kill me".

Crowley was surprised "I'm not human!" He said without really thinking about it. It didn't help. The woman fell back into Ligur's arms, but kept crying. 

He tried again "no one is going to kill you. Right guys?" He scowled at Ligur then Hastur.

"No we ain't. You're a good human and make tasty soup". Ligur was patting her quite violently now in a gesture that to a demon would have been comforting.

Crowley growled at Hastur, who looked at him blankly. He gave a significant glance at the human and Hastur hastened to add "I ain't killin' no-one".

The assurances gained, Amy seemed to calm down a little. Once she had settled down she turned to Crowley and asked “what are you doing here then?”

He wasn’t sure what to say but Hastur answered for him (having cleared the alcohol from his system and feeling a lot more sober). “He’s working for me human”.

Ligur scrunched up his nose and said “she’s called Amy Hast - you know that!”

“Yeah, yeah - he’s working for me Amy, then. Since when were you two such good friends eh?” There was a hint of jealousy in the demon’s question. Ligur, however, just laughed:

“You invited her here and you tasted the soup - it’s nice right? She’s a good human and she’s made me better. Least you can do is remember her name! I told her about some of the stuff we’ve got up to over the years and she’s a good listener too, gets scared in the right places. Nearly made you sick talkin’ about that big war with all the trenches dint I Amy?” The affectionate arm stayed around her shoulders during this speech.

Amy was nodding and looking a little green at the memory. Hastur huffed “dunno why you’ve been telling her stuff, humans don’t understand demon stuff”.

“Well you was out all night dancing and kissing other humans wont you? I gotta have someone to talk to. How’d you like being left all on your own?”

At these words there was an uncomfortable silence. Hastur’s memory went back to the time Ligur was dead and he remembered exactly how he’d felt being left all on his own. A small tear formed in his eye and he practically threw Amy out of the way to take her place in the hug.

Crowley had been watching this exchange with increasing puzzlement. The newly released Amy was watching him warily. “What did he mean ‘Hastur invited you here’? Why would you want to come and help him?” he asked her curiously.

Amy stared at him “I wasn’t invited here, I was bloody kidnapped!”

“Yeah, but you like it here now don’t you Amy? You don’t mind stayin’ to help Ligur” Hastur mumbled from his position tightly clutched to Ligur’s breast.

“No I damn well don’t want to stay. Look here, I’ve done everything you asked, I’ve looked after your partner and made soup and helped keep things tidy…” at this point she looked around the cluttered room full of grubby furniture out of skips, tattered throws in different colours and tangled strings of fairy lights “well tidy-ish” she admitted. Carrying on a moment later “well, haven’t I , haven’t I done all the things you asked?”

From tight against Ligur came a slight movement that might have been a nod from Hastur. “Well then, why don’t you let me go now?!” Amy shouted.

Crowley looked a little panicked “he kidnapped you?” Amy was nodding “to look after Ligur?” He turned to where Hastur was burrowing under Ligur’s coat “I thought you were the one doing that? I thought that’s why you wanted me doing all the temptations so you could…” he tailed off. Now he came to think about it the idea of Hastur diligently making soup and caring for someone (even if that someone was Ligur) seemed too weird to be believed.

A muffled voice said “I dunt know how to look after anyone. I needed help from one of the humans, someone who knew about caring for things an’ not killin’ them. I dint want Ligur to die… again…”. There was a sound of what might be crying from inside Ligur’s tightly wrapped arms.

“Well, you’re going to have to let her go Hastur. You can’t keep kidnapped humans in my flat. My flat Hastur! The police could come here any time - you’ve got to get rid of her!”

Amy was starting to look scared again “what do you mean ‘get rid’ of me?”

Crowley looked at her “let you go of course - have to do something about your memory, can’t have you leading the police to my flat, but principally we’re going to let you go - aren’t we Hastur?”

“Naw, can’t let cooking-human go. Who’s going to make soup and who’s going to explain all the human stuff? I need to know things” came the muffled reply.

Ligur cut in at this point “you can’t keep Amy here forever Hast. I’m sure we can work out the cooking part - I can already do the killin’ bit and the rest is boiling stuff, can’t be that hard can it? We boiled plenty of people down in the pits dint we? Never realised the water would be so tasty afterwards though”. The last bit held a speculative note that Amy really didn’t trust.

Amy chipped in “I won’t tell the police Hastur honestly. You haven’t hurt me, well not really” she added remembering being locked in the wardrobe and smothered a few times. “You can trust me, I won’t tell anyone”.

Crowley was smirking “yeah, I’m sure we can” he said in a patronising way. However, he turned to the Hastur/Ligur bundle and added “we can wipe her memory, but we gotta let her go. What happens if she escapes? Or the police track her here? You can’t keep a human in my flat”.

“T’ain’t your flat, it’s ours” came the chorused reply.

“You still have to let her go. I’ll help with the human stuff. I’ve been on earth for best part of six thousand years - I know more about humans than the humans themselves!” Crowley immediately regretted the offer, but thought that he could easily renege on it as he hadn’t done anything silly like make it an official deal.

Ligur released Hastur at this point and turned him so they were face to face “let her go Hast, we’ll be fine on our own. We always was”. In a small voice Hastur said “ok” gazing at his partner.

It was obvious that he’d only agreed because it’s what Ligur wanted, but Crowley didn’t care. The sooner they got this potentially dangerous human out of his flat the better. What if the angel found out he’d been complicit in a kidnapping? He’d never forgive him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully that was a sweet chapter - next time: the demons need to let Amy go *without* being caught… will they manage it?


	28. Freedom!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demons release their captive and fervently hope they won’t be seen. Hastur has a kindly impulse, which is embarrassing….

Crowley hadn’t been keen on Hastur accompanying him on the way to ‘release’ Amy. Ligur wasn’t keen on leaving her to Crowley or Hastur. Hastur didn’t want Ligur or Crowley to go, but also didn’t want to leave them alone together. In the end they all went.

Ligur blinked in the bright light of the lampposts, he’d expected the evening to be dark and was a little disoriented. Hastur held him tightly by the arm, worried he might fall. Crowley was supporting Amy by one arm as her head lolled somewhat under the influence of a demonic sedative. Hastur clutched her other arm nervously.

They shuffled furtively in the direction of St James’ park, not far from Crowley’s flat. Once inside the scent of damp ground and sound of wind through the trees made them feel at one remove from the busy city. The usual collection of tourists were taking photographs of each other feeding squirrels, or pointing out the colourful parakeets incongruously squawking from the tree tops. They mingled with suspiciously furtive looking persons in suits. In the creeping dusk spies met and ducks were fed.

The demons carefully manoeuvred round the park, shielding Amy from sight as much as possible. Finding in unoccupied bench they deposited her on to it. It took a couple of attempts to ensure she didn’t slide off and, in the end, they had to reduce the effectiveness of the sedation to get her to sit upright. Crowley was all set to walk off in the opposite direction as quickly as he could without attracting attention, but Hastur just stood there looking at her.

“Come on, let’s get out of here before she wakes up completely. I don’t want her seeing us even with a memory wipe” Crowley hissed urgently.

“She was a good human. Good for Ligur I mean. We shouldn’t just leave her like that, she should get a reward. It’s only fair innit?” Hastur said speculatively.

“Oh yeah, let’s give her a medal: ‘Best Kidnap Victim of The Year’ award eh?”

The sarcasm was lost on Hastur who still looked at Amy in that odd way. Crowley grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away. Suddenly the tall demon had an idea. He miracled up a bag and tucked it under the sleepy human’s arm. Then allowed himself to be led away.

“What was that?” Crowley asked.

“More of them money notes. Humans like ‘em, it makes them happy” came the muttered reply. The demon was quite obviously embarrassed about doing something to make someone happy and didn’t want to discuss it further. Crowley opened his mouth to question Hastur’s weird impulse, but took one look at the way Ligur was glowering at him and decided it wasn’t worth it. With that they bolted back to the flat hoping no-one had seen them.

Unfortunately someone had seen them. It was about the worst possible someone who could have seen them too.

…...

Aziraphale had been unhappy. He was disappointed that the demon hadn’t seen the error of his ways and he was miserable that he’d lost his friend, albeit temporarily. Although he had thrown the demon out for the duration of his deal with Hastur, he fully intended to pick up with him once it was over.

His worry was about whether or not he could trust Crowley not to do it again. What had he meant when he said he might be ‘fed up and bored’? Had he really been feeling like that or was it just anger that had made him say it?

He considered their time together in the bookshop and had to conceded that he’d missed doing good, helping people and spreading happiness. He’d taken solace in his beloved books, burying himself away in the back room of the shop and doing his best to ignore the painful little jolts he sometimes felt from the humans suffering outside.

Considering how difficult he’d found it to stay away from interference he wasn’t surprised the demon had found it similarly difficult. Crowley hadn’t even got the consolation of the books. Sure he would help out with some of the translations and was coming along quite nicely as far as learning the index system was going. However, the demon wasn’t really a librarian at heart and he knew it.

Feeling that maybe the New Arrangement had perhaps been a little rash he wished he could talk it over with someone. Unfortunately the only one he could talk it over was currently somewhere out there, having been unceremoniously thrown out by him.

It was the fact he missed his friend that had led him to St James’s Park, as if being in their familiar haunt would make him feel closer to the missing demon. He was wandering round, considering miracling up something to feed to the ever-hungry ducks (and geese and pigeons and even pelicans!), when he spotted a group behaving oddly. He idly wondered what they were up to and stopped to watch.

Realisation hit him a second later. That was Crowley and three other people. He corrected himself shortly afterwards when he sensed the energy coming off them: other demons. He wasn’t sure what to do. In theory he knew Crowley was in a deal with Hastur, and sure enough one of the demons was indeed Hastur, but he had no idea who the others were.

As he watched, they guided the female onto the bench. She looked dazed and responded slowly. He then saw Crowley trying to beat a hasty retreat and being stopped by one of the other demons - Hastur by the look of it. After a moment’s hesitation Hastur tucked a bag under the woman’s arm and all three fled the park looking more shifty than ever.

By this point he’d sensed that the woman on the bench was human. This was just bizarre. Why were the three demons escorting a dopey human to a park and then abandoning her on a bench? Also - what was in the bag?

As they were demons (he had to assume Crowley was being a proper demon again now he reminded himself) he suspected they had been up to no good. Once they were out of sight he determined to check on the human. Wandering over he sat on the bench next to her in a casual manner.

…...

Amy was feeling very woosy. She was dimly aware that there had been some men here a moment ago and that they’d sat her on this bench. One of them had given her a bag and then they’d all left. She wasn’t sure how they’d all come to be in the park in the first place, or where she had been immediately before then.

In fact her memory was extremely hazy for what seemed like quite a long period. She did recall being approached on her way out of the hospital one night. The memory then got confused again. She was nursing someone, someone she couldn’t quite remember.

She tried harder. It hadn’t been in a hospital but in a private house or flat. An image of coloured throws, fairy lights and some sort of open burners swam briefly through her mind, that didn’t seem right. The image refused to come into focus any further.

Had she taken on a private nursing job? It was possible. She was working for an agency at the hospital and the wages weren’t good. If someone had offered her an attractive enough contract she might have taken it. If that was the case though how much had they paid her?

It was at this point that two things happened. Firstly she remembered the bag and secondly a strange man sat down next to her. She furtively looked into the bag and saw it contained lots of bundles of £20 and £50 notes tied together with some sort of string. It smelled funny too, like fireworks or gunpowder.

The man next to her cleared his throat and she jumped up. If he’d seen what was in the bag then there might be trouble. Clearly whoever had employed her had been quite eccentric and had, for some reason, paid her in cash. Judging by the quantity of cash he’d paid her pretty well too.

Maybe it was a foreign dignitary, something hush hush, or even criminals - her mind went to underworld crime lords (which wasn't too far from the truth if only she'd known it). Perhaps it had been something like that. Either way she didn’t want anyone finding out, including the suspiciously interested man sat next to her.

…...

“I’m most frightfully sorry to intrude, but I wondered if…..” Aziraphale didn’t get any further than this before the woman jumped up and ran. What had the demons done to her? She was clearly frightened, they must have hurt her.

The angel expended a little energy to bring himself alongside the woman and he started to assure her he meant her no harm. Unfortunately this only further alarmed her. In the end he used a proper miracle and transported both of them back to the bookshop.

He needed a further miracle to stop the panicked shouting and make her calm enough to be able to answer questions. Unfortunately she didn’t seem to have much in the way of answers. Sighing he used yet another miracle to remove what appeared to be a crude memory block from the woman’s mind and began the questions again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale continues his questioning in the next chapter - Amy gives him some insights into her time with the demons.


	29. Angelic Questioning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy talks about her time with Hastur and Ligur and confuses the angel. Things aren’t quite as he expects. He then has the tricky decision of what to do with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An angelic chapter! There aren’t many with no demons in but this is one of them…. although they are talking about demons so it’s not really demon-free…
> 
> Also a slightly longer chapter this time.

For Amy it felt like a curtain had been lifted. The memories flooding in gave her a jolt, and it took some time before she was calm enough to realise that the man was trying to question her.

After her recent experience being kept hostage by demons she had no intention of going through that again. Learning from last time she didn’t hesitate to launch herself at her kidnapper with violent intent, trying desperately to gouge at his eyes, stamp on his shins and bite anything that came near her.

Aziraphale was shocked and used yet another miracle to calm the woman down again. The demons must have seriously hurt her for her to behave in this way. As she lay in a woosy, trance-like state he began his questions again.

“The men in the park - how did you meet them?” Not a great start as the human wrinkled her brow seeming confused by the question. He tried another tack “tell me what happened to you over the last few days”. Again she looked confused. He was about to try another when she managed an answer:

“It was months I think… not days”. The angel was shocked - they’d kept an innocent woman locked up for months. Then he remembered that all this trouble with Crowley acting oddly and them arguing was more recent than that. Being honest he amended the thought - Crowley had seemed to be getting restless before then, but nothing like lately. He knew Crowley hadn’t been working for Hell that long anyway. So they’d kidnapped her before his demon had even been on the scene.

The human, meanwhile, was looking around the bookshop. Feeling guilty about doing it, he nonetheless topped up the power he’d used to ensure it didn’t wear off too quickly. Using miracles to control humans wasn’t really allowed, or at least only in exceptional circumstances - these were exceptional weren’t they? He asked another question “my dear: how did you come to meet them?” Meet them? Why had he put it in such an innocuous way? Like they’d maybe bumped into each other at a party or something.

The woman answered readily enough though “I was grabbed, then there was someone there, he didn’t tie me up or anything though, he didn’t… didn’t try to undress me” at this point she started crying. Aziraphale hastened to put a reassuring hand on her arm, but she flinched backwards like he’d burned her.

“He was a demon he said. A demon….” she trailed off a little uncertainly, but then picked up again “I was nursing someone, nursing another demon I think and he was nice, told me stories and used my name. Yes, he called me Amy not cooking-human, and said Hastur would let me go. Hastur was the other demon, the one who grabbed me, but he got me this dress and he liked my soup, said it was the best soup he'd ever had”.

Aziraphale thought she was obviously delirious and tried another miracle to restore her to her proper senses. It didn’t seem to help as she kept talking about soup and television and how she’d had to explain how trains and money worked to her captor.

On mentioning money Amy suddenly remembered the bag. No matter how strong the angelic influence there was something about the importance of money that cut through it (she had rent and bills after all, and nurses are emphatically not rich). Amy clutched the bag to her, resisting any attempt to pry it out of her hands.

Aziraphale sighed and tried a different approach. “Young lady, what’s in the bag?” he said in a stern voice.

She glared at him and said “Amy, my name is Amy”. He asked about the bag again, this time using her name. When she told him it was her ‘fee’ for nursing the demon he was surprised. When she told him it was ‘substantial’ and all in cash he was even more confused.

The questioning continued for some time. The woman was clearly getting tired, no wonder given her odd ordeal and the lateness of the hour. The angel was torn, he wanted to continue talking to her as the story so far didn’t add up, but he was kind and didn’t want to exhaust her either.

Then there was the tricky matter of letting her sleep off the effects of his angelic influence, as without it she would no doubt try to escape. He was also concerned that, without the demons’ memory blockers, she might remember where Crowley’s flat was and call the police on them.

He had a thought and interrupted a somewhat confused account of a drunken Hastur cuddling and kissing the other demon (surely that couldn’t be right?).

“I’m an angel Amy. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to help. I need you to answer some questions”. She looked confused for a second, but then seemed to take this information in her stride. He supposed spending what sounded like months with demons had made her more accepting of this sort of possibility.

“Why have you kidnapped me? Have you got someone who needs nursing too?”

Aziraphale was shocked “I didn’t kidnap you!” he exclaimed. “I’m just trying to help you, Amy. I only want to check nothing bad had happened to you. I want to make sure you’re alright, that’s all - I didn’t kidnap you”.

Amy laughed over his protestations, saying “well it damn well feels like you kidnapped me! Why can’t I even get up if you haven’t restrained me somehow? At least Hastur was upfront about it. He didn’t stop me moving like this, or try to pretend he was my friend. He told me what he was and what he wanted straight up. I don’t believe you really just want to help - there’s something else you want that you’re not telling me. If this is what angels are like I’ll take the demons any day”.

Aziraphale felt his angelic influence on her was waning. He wasn’t sure whether to bump up the power again to keep her here. Her description of his behaviour, and her statement that she’d rather be with the demons, had thrown him.

“I’m sorry Amy, it’s just that, well, I know one of those demons quite well and... and I needed to know if he hurt you”. It sounded like a pretty weak excuse for kidnapping someone even to him. The angel’s concentration was broken and Amy found she could move again. However, her new captor didn’t seem threatening, in fact he was giving out quite a strong sense of genuine concern and worry. Also she was curious. Angels weren’t meant to know demons were they? Certainly not ‘quite well’ - she thought she knew what that euphemism meant!

“Which one of the demons do you know?” When he told her she laughed again. “He didn’t kidnap me, in fact he was the one who wanted them to let me go. Although, I think Ligur would have made Hastur let me go anyway. Ligur was kind, I liked him. He and Hastur liked each other too, they were so sweet together - adorable really”. She sighed remembering the two demons gazing into each other’s eyes - she wished someone would look at her that way - as if she were the only person who mattered in the whole world.

Aziraphale had heard of Ligur. What he’d heard about him didn’t square with him being kind though, and certainly not ‘adorable’. Crowley had said very clearly that Hastur and Ligur were the ones sent to drag him down to Hell and kill him, or worse, before Armageddon.

What Crowley hadn’t explained was his dissolving of Ligur. He hadn’t been sure how the angel would take it, given he’d supplied the holy water, and he didn’t want to remind the angel of what demons were capable of - even it was self-defence.

So, he didn’t know about Ligur’s demise and subsequent recovery, had no idea why he might need nursing, or why Hastur would kidnap a human to look after him. Indeed he didn’t know why Hastur, an undoubtedly evil demon with no redeeming features (according to Crowley), would want to nurse another demon back to health anyway. He was finding the whole thing incredibly confusing.

As the man (or angel apparently) went quiet, Amy took the opportunity to look round the bookshop. She noted the seemingly haphazard piles of books on every flat surface. Many were carefully marked with colourful bookmarks and not one had so much as a speck of dust on it. There was a comfortable looking armchair with a side table next to it. The table was overloaded with a precipitous pile of reading material, a fringed lamp and a homely looking mug. The mug reminded her of something.

The angel’s revere was interrupted when the woman asked “have you got any tea?” Fearing this was a trick to get him to leave her alone long enough to make her escape he used a miracle to conjure up a delicate china tea set with ivy patterned cups rimmed with gold. As it was miraculous tea it didn’t need to brew, already being at the perfect level of infusion, so he poured out two cups and indicated the pretty little milk jug. As he was a good host he belatedly provided a sugar bowl too, remembering that some humans liked to ruin tea by making it sickly sweet, overpowering the subtle flavour.

Aziraphale did like the ceremony of making tea, and the beautifully made artefacts used to prepare and serve it. He’d opted for English tea this time, but his favourite was the delicate jasmine green tea they made in China, with the pretty little white flowers that floated to the surface of the amber liquid - quite beautiful and very tasty. Amy, on the other hand, just liked tea, the stronger the better. She added a splash of milk and several spoons of sugar.

He took a deep breath, ignoring the desecration of his custom blended tea with all that sugar, and asked Amy to start again from the beginning. He again ensured she was free of all demonic influence and cleared away any lingering effects of his own power to ensure she was free to tell her story without any interference.

When Amy had finally finished he was shocked, but not quite in the way he’d expected. Apart from the initial kidnapping, which had obviously been quite traumatic, the demons mostly seemed to have been, well there really wasn’t any other word for it: ‘nice’.

He had obviously heard of the term ‘Stockholm Syndrome’, but even taking that possibility into account they seemed to have behaved pretty well. They hadn’t really hurt her (the odd smothering aside), had provided food, complimented and enjoyed her cooking, clothed her and allowed her entertainment. In the end Hastur had even paid her for her nursing services. He couldn’t understand it, it simply didn’t square with what Crowley had told him about these demons.

He pushed that thought to one side. The most important thing was that it had been his demon, the wonderful Crowley, who had convinced them to let her go. He felt the warmth of happy feelings wash over him. Crowley wasn’t really evil, even if he was working for Hastur he was still the Crowley he knew.

Maybe he’d even been a good influence on the other two as well. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing he was spending time with them. Then he remembered that influence could go both ways and wasn’t so sure of himself.

Amy seemed quite content about what had happened and didn’t show any signs that she was going to set the police on the track of the Mayfair flat. She said she’d promised Hastur she wouldn’t and that seemed to be that. However, he couldn’t be sure, so with reluctance (and copying from the demons’ example) he applied a gentle memory blocker. All she would retain was a happy recollection of a private nursing contract, helping a nice gentleman through his illness.

He waited until it had started to get light again and, being unable to think of a better plan, he miracled them back to the park. Carefully sitting her back on the bench he walked off thoughtfully.

What he really wanted to do was talk to Crowley. However, he recalled he’d thrown him out for the duration of the deal, which was a whole year. Not too long in the context of six thousand years, but long enough to depress him.

He genuinely didn’t want to be too close to a demon working for Hell by committing evil deeds and capturing souls. He didn't did he? Even if it was Crowley, and even if he wasn’t being too evil. His resolve was slipping, but he was an angel of his word and he'd said he didn't want to see Crowley for the duration so that was that.

He supposed he’d just have to wait it out. At least he was feeling somewhat better about things. He was still irritated that Crowley wouldn’t just drop the whole thing, but a year wasn’t a very long time was it? Only a few months really. Barely any time at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rather liked writing this one. A little nod to the idea that nurses are addicted to tea - perhaps not so much nowadays when coffee is so much better than it used to be, but I’ve still been offered tea repeatedly by nurses in medical settings so it isn’t too far fetched is it? Jasmine tea really is very nice if you haven’t tried it (and, of course, if you like green tea).
> 
> Next chapter will actually move the plot on a little - and we find out what happened to Satan after the incident at the airfield.


	30. The Ex-Antichrist Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to a nearly-teenage Adam -and what Satan is up to now….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fun chapter to write - but also necessary for plot purposes. Hope you like it!

Adam was not in a good mood. His parents had attempted to reason with him, but he just didn’t accept their view that he was too young to go into Oxford on his own. He’d been getting the bus to school on his own for over a year now hadn’t he? Why shouldn’t he get the two buses into town if he wanted to meet up with friends? Others in his year were allowed to do it, why not him? It wasn’t fair.

The row had progressed and expanded. His mum had always expected he keep his bedroom tidy, too tidy in his opinion (how was he meant to do anything if he had to constantly put everything away?). Now she seemed to expect him to keep the whole house tidy as well!

Apparently it wasn’t enough that he had made his own breakfast, he should also have put the bread away, made sure the fridge door was shut, wiped up that orange juice spill on the counter. The list was endless. What did she think he was - the bloody cleaner?? She should be making his breakfast anyway, she always had done in the past. He was doing her a favour making it himself, she should thank him, not expect him to run around doing her jobs all the time.

Then came the issue of his phone and what he did with it. They’d given him the phone for his 12th birthday and now they didn’t want him to use it! It was ridiculous to give someone something and then say they weren’t allowed to use it. Technically they were right (which made it all the more annoying), technically he should be 13 before he got an Insta or a Snapchat account, but most of the people in his year had them already. It wasn’t fair!

Not only were they trying to stop him from talking to people in person, but they were also trying to stop him talking to them online too. Why did they constantly try to control his life, why couldn’t they let him just do what all the others in his year did? He’d be 13 within a year anyway, it wasn’t a very long time was it? Only a few months really. Barely any time at all.

Then the big one - money. He got virtually nothing from them anyway - he was sure it was less than most of the boys in his class - now they wanted to cut it. They’d even suggested he get a paper-round!? Like anyone even read newspapers nowadays, so old fashioned, everyone read the news online, so who would he be delivering papers to in fact? Maybe a few old people, but that was it.

He’d have to get up in the middle of the night too - it was hard enough getting up in time for the 8:15 bus without trying to get up before dawn. He’d read somewhere about teenagers having a naturally delayed sleeping rhythm - it was an adolescent thing, it proved he was growing up. It also proved that making him get up extra-early was cruel and unusual punishment, practically torture, and that was banned under the Geneva Convention.

He’d tried telling his parents this, but all they were interested in was them not being able to afford to keep giving him ‘loads’ of money because his dad’s hours had been cut again. Why didn’t his dad get a paper-round if he was so keen on them? Wasn’t like they gave him much money anyway - he could barely afford stuff as it was.

He’d been banned from getting social media accounts, banned from in-app purchases, banned from getting the buses into town. He was a prisoner in his own home. His parents were trying to keep him in solitary confinement doing slave-labour cleaning the whole house. It was all so unfair.

After sulking in his room for a while he decided he needed to do something. He was bored with being alone with no internet (his parents had turned off the router as ‘punishment’ - denying internet access might not be covered by the Geneva Convention but it damn well should be in Adam’s opinion). He stomped down the stairs and was irritated to find his mum and dad chatting together quite happily, apparently not in the slightest bit upset by what had happened.

He yelled at them both that if they hated him so much they should never have bought him into the world at all. Then he had another thought and added that he didn’t think they were his real parents at all. If they were, they wouldn’t be trying to make him so miserable all the time. No real parent would treat their child so badly. He headed for the front-door yelling “you’re not my real dad”, slamming it shut behind him as he left.

At the Ex-Antichrist’s declamation that the Youngs were not his real parents something stirred. Some magic that had once altered reality was being realigned. A spell undone. Certain things were being put back to where they had been some time ago. Adam didn’t notice. 

…...

One of the things that stirred - or more correctly one of the beings that stirred - was currently not that far away (in the grand scheme of the whole universe that is). He was currently in Cornwall having had a very pleasant walk from his camp-site near Devil’s Frying Pan (a name he found most amusing) down to a little village called Cadgwith.

In this village the humans served a crunchy shelled crustacean of which he was becoming very fond. That the humans didn’t eat the shells intrigued him - they were one of the best bits in his opinion. That and the claws - he liked the claws.

He sat at a rickety wooden table outside of the little inn and looked at the boats opposite. They had landed the catch some time ago and the thickly wrapped up fishing-humans stood about smoking and talking. The netted pots they used to catch the tasty sea-beasts were hung up along the side of a wooden shack. Satan breathed deeply. The smell of salt air, fresh fish guts and strong tobacco hit his nostrils. Just then a bright beam of sunlight broke through intermittent clouds, lighting the scene and warming him pleasantly. This was so much better than Hell.

He had just got another large glass of something they called cider, which was quite refreshing in it’s own way, and a further large red shelled creature, when he heard a faint call from someone not wholly unfamiliar. It wasn’t exactly a welcome call.

After the quite frankly farcical attempt at Armageddon Satan had descended back to Hell in what would, in any other being, be described as a sulk. He hadn’t deigned to talk to Beelzebub or any of the other princes, shutting himself away in his carved rock chambers and glaring angrily at the bare walls. He’d spent six thousand years planning this and then some ignorant little brat of a human had spoiled it all. Well him and that traitor demon with his angel boyfriend.

That the ‘brat’ in question was his own child just made it worse. It was bloody ridiculous - he’d been made to look ridiculous and by the very entity he’d been rebelling against in the first place. Who did She think She was? Sneakily embedding an ineffable plan within a properly set out Great Plan? It wasn’t fair.

None of it had been fair right from the beginning come to that. He had been an Archangel, created by Her to be of the highest orders in all existence. Why did he have to bow and scrape to Her new toys - first a son and then these humans. It wasn’t right. He wasn’t even sure whether She had created him - sure she took the credit, but if She was his real creator why would She treat him so badly? It wasn’t fair.

Not knowing what to do after the failed Armageddon, and feeling very hard done by, he decided to visit earth. Leaving Hell abruptly (slamming the gates to the underworld behind him) he’d made his way upwards. He’d not been to earth before - apart from a brief appearance at the airfield where, somewhat confusingly, Armageddon seemed to have been relocated. To be honest (a new concept for Satan) he was curious what it was like.

When he’d been cast out of Heaven he’d ended up in Hell, which wasn’t very nice at all. When the humans had been cast out of Eden they’d got earth. What he’d seen so far confirmed the humans had got the better end of the deal. However, what it also confirmed was that there was quite a lot to be said for earth.

Given the fact he was no longer confined to Hell, and no longer working tirelessly on planning their revenge and glorious victory in the next war, he had time to spare. His original plan had been to cause as much chaos as possible. What he’d found on earth seemed to show that the humans were very good at causing their own chaos. So he decided he needed a new plan. The first step was to have a proper look round, really get to the bottom of what made these little creatures tick. Maybe try some of the seven deadly sins for himself too.

Many months into his experiment he still felt he had a lot to learn. He’d barely started on looking at the scenery. Cornwall with it’s wild cliff-tops, dramatic rockfalls, beaches and caves was a good place to start. The food was good too he thought, crunching through another lobster shell.

In the midst of this revere came the faint but unmistakable call - it was his son. Satan sighed, he really wasn’t in the mood. The little bastard had forsaken him once and he certainly wasn’t the forgiving type. Besides, he wanted to finish this crustacean and maybe have another pint before the inn shut for the afternoon. He ignored the cry.

…...

However, reality still listened to the Antichrist (more properly the Ex-Ex-Antichrist) and things had changed. His rage had repercussions. It bounced around looking for a way to ground itself. As Satan batted the energy away it rebounded upwards into space. Out there it should have been harmless, nothing to hit but a few stars, which would probably burn up the small amount of energy an Antichrist could produce.

Unfortunately, space is mostly composed of just that - i.e. space. The stars and planets and comets etc are like specks of dust floating in an empty room. Adam’s energy flew straight through the dark matter between the stars, outwards and onwards and eventually *through* the fabric of space. Either through a tiny rip angel-Hastur had missed, or through a new one more recently opened up. The cause of the minuscule little hole in the fabric of reality didn’t matter. What mattered was that out there, outside the pinprick hole in space, Adam’s energy found a host and something that had been sleeping began to wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh teenagers….I would apologise to Adam for this chapter, but it’s based on my own memories of being that age - and what my younger brother was like - it’s a time when everything seems unfair and no-one understands....although I'm too old for in-app purchases and social media to have been an issue!
> 
> The locations in Cornwall are real and the Inn at Cadgwith well worth a visit if you’re ever down on the Lizard (assuming it survives the covid crisis)
> 
> Demons again next chapter!


	31. Domesticated Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So much to get through in this chapter - the demon flat-mates settle in and Hastur ploughs on with his Armageddon II plan - searching all of Oxfordshire for the ‘lost’ Antichrist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, I feel like I should have broken this chapter up somehow - my resolve to go for shorter chapters covering one thing at a time has failed! It feels a bit like there are too many ideas crammed in….but it isn’t really that long and there was a lot I wanted to cover….Not sure what you think dear reader(s)!

In Mayfair the demonic flat-mates had settled down to an uneasy existence. Crowley still had his list of temptations to complete. Hastur insisted he had to stick to the deal despite the fact Crowley didn’t see why any more, and kicked up as much of a fuss as he dared about it. If Ligur was better what did Hastur have to do all day?

Ligur was indeed much better, but still seemed to need to sleep and eat regularly. Hastur fussed around him, checking he had enough food, his pillows were plumped up, blankets were tucked in and generally ensuring his partner had everything he needed. It didn’t stop him from going out, but he was very attentive whenever he got back.

The short demon had taken to television in much the same way as Hastur, although he preferred all things supernatural rather than Hastur’s preference for cookery and murder mysteries. Anything involving ghosts, the ‘paranormal’ or unexplained phenomena seemed to fascinate him. He had also started helping out with the paperwork.

Hastur had discovered a ‘library’ in Oxford and stolen quite a few books to fill in the gaps of his Lust education. He started on basic human anatomy and now understood the ‘he’ versus ‘she’ distinction. It was pretty academic when it came to him and Ligur as they could suit themselves in that regard.

He’d naturally chosen a male looking corporation as, when he’d chosen it, males had a lot more freedom. However, that didn’t mean he had to stay male, or even appear male ‘all over’, as it were. He hadn’t quite felt up to making any effort in either direction yet though - it was something he wanted to consider carefully.

As the whole physical side was a bit daunting, he had moved his reading away from biology and anatomy. Instead going onto some of the more flowery romantic novels - the sort with cover pictures of dashing looking men catching fainting females. This seemed to be how humans wrapped up and justified the physical bits of Lust.

He believed his understanding was improving - it was like an elaborate ritual or game, played out with definite rules that he was sure he could learn. It was complicated but he reckoned he just needed to carry on reading until he’d figured it out.

However, Hastur wasn’t sure either he or Ligur would look good in a corset and the idea of having a ‘heaving bosom’ wasn’t appealing. He certainly wasn’t planning on learning to ‘swoon’ either. He did admit he was intrigued to know exactly what went on in those haystacks and potting sheds that seemed to feature so much in human relationships. The idea of ‘happily ever after’ appealed too - he didn’t think he’d ever really been happy before, being on earth was the closest he’d come, which was unexpected given how he’d always hated earth before.

More interestingly, he thought he recognised the pleasant, warm and, occasionally, fluttery feelings he got around Ligur (and to a lesser extent coffee-human) described in the books too. These feeling seemed essential to Lust, although the humans used a different L-word to describe them. This gave him something to think about, as he hadn’t thought demons could experience that particular emotion.

He shared some of his new insights with Ligur and was pleased to find that he too recognised the potentially undemonic emotions described in the books. They agreed to keep it secret though, not wanting to lessen their image as fearsome demons.

Crowley was kept busy with a steady stream of temptations and reporting regularly to Ligur. When he had free time he fought for control of the TV, yearning to put on Clint Eastwood or James Bond movies. Mostly he ended up losing the battle and was heartily sick of the sound of Hastur’s amused commentary of the Great British Bake Off and Ligur’s laughter at obviously faked demonic possessions.

Away from the television his two fellow demons spent a lot of time cuddled close together whispering suspiciously. The only words he’d managed to overhear hadn’t made a whole heap of sense. Hastur seemed to be talking about haystacks, corsets and sunsets. Ligur appeared interested and, every now and then, they’d giggle or kiss. It made Crowley highly uncomfortable and he spent a fair amount of time sat on his own in the 'spare' bedroom when Hastur was home.

When Hastur was away he felt compelled to keep an eye on Ligur though, not trusting his fellow demon one tiny bit. In practise this meant he was forced to sit in the same room while his flat-mate gave a running critique of seances or big-foot sightings. Luckily he spent a lot of time out tempting humans.

Crowley begrudgingly admitted that he quite enjoyed it a lot of the time. He did wish that Aziraphale was working too though. It would make him feel better about damning souls to Hell if he knew his counterpart was balancing his work out. However, it was in his nature to cause trouble, and getting to do so almost guilt-free (he was bound by the deal after all), was making him feel a lot more like his old self.

He was pleased to introduce his fellows to the concept of takeaways. It was a relief to finally rid the flat of its combination of soup and unwashed human smell. He was getting a little fed up of having to tidy-up after the other two though (even if he could use miracles). He liked minimalist tidiness and the sight of piles of blankets, walls darkened with soot from the burners and empty takeaway boxes strewn on the floor set his teeth on edge.

Hastur himself went out most days and was very reluctant to say where he was going. Ligur either didn’t know where he went or wouldn’t tell Crowley, so he resigned himself to the dual employment of Hell’s temptations and general housekeeping.

…...

The morning train to Oxford was getting quite used to its newest commuter. Well, reverse commuter really, as he travelled out of London in the morning and returned in the afternoon. The staff of the buffet car recognised the strange gentleman in a suit who always read romance novels. They had almost been polite towards him once or twice - although he never tipped them. Hastur wanted the little discs for the buses.

He’d gone back to see the ex-nun a couple of times, still hoping that she might have at least one piece of useful information hidden away in her brain. He’d been disappointed, although at least she could make decent coffee.

The former sister had got over her initial terror at the sight of ‘Lord Hastur’ and had been quite upset when he stopped visiting. He had shown a proper appreciation of her coffee and biscuit making skills (and on more than one occasion paid her handsomely for her time). His conversation inevitably harked back to her time as a nun, a time that, in all honesty, she’d rather forget.

The corporate management training initiative had done well, but really, she couldn’t quite bring herself to allow guns any longer. Not after the inexplicable incident when the police had told her they’d found real bullets embedded in the walls. Guns seemed to be the only thing the punters were interested in though, so she’d launched a new initiative. The writers’ retreat idea was doing very well now. She did try to interest the demon in yoga and meditation, thinking it might be good for an evil being to learn a little about calmness and self-discipline, but he wouldn’t even try it.

......

Hastur was getting much more familiar with Oxford and it’s surrounds. He’d obviously found a library, but also looked around the university and had a tour of a castle. He’d seen a botanical garden - which compared rather unfavourably to the ‘garden’ in *his* (certainly not Crowley’s) Mayfair flat - and finally got to order a pint of bitter (he hadn’t liked it, preferring a much sweeter ‘alcopop’ instead).

He was quite familiar with the bus routes by now and had expanded his search to cover a large number of the local villages. He reckoned the Antichrist must be at least 12 years old by now and had got Crowley to describe what a 12-13 year old human would be like. The request had confused the other demon, but he was in a deal to teach Hastur about human stuff so he’d given a vague outline.

Apparently they were quite a lot like demons - sulky, quick to take offence, obsessed with their status and material possessions and prone to fits of destructive temper. Also, just like demons, they felt the entire world around them was unfair. The only real differences seemed to be that they were generally shorter and none of them had fangs or horns.

One day he was feeling especially irritated at the lack of progress in his search. It had started raining and he’d sought shelter, only to find himself standing in the porch of a church that seemed very familiar. He realised that, yet again, he was back at St Judes (rather appropriately the patron saint of lost causes). He was back to where the whole bloody thing had started and no further forward than he had been on the first day.

Thinking to himself ‘bugger this for a lark’ he headed back up to the bus stop. He’d had enough for the day and was looking forward to getting back to London (maybe they could try the new Italian place Crowley had mentioned) when he saw a human of about the right age already at the bus stop. The human felt very angry. In fact he felt more than just angry, there was something almost demonic about his aura. Hastur was intrigued and approached him.

…...

The day couldn’t get much worse for Adam. He’d had yet another row with his parents, stormed out in a rage and caught the first bus he saw, flashing his child’s bus pass resentfully - he wasn’t a child! Unfortunately the bus had headed off in the wrong direction and he realised too late he was on the wrong one. He waited in the vain hope it would veer back in the right direction and was, unknowingly, influencing the bus driver to do just that, when he gave up and just got off.

Consulting the timetable at the stop he realised he’d have to wait an hour for a bus into Oxford. It then started raining. That was when he had thought to himself that the day couldn’t get much worse. At this point he was approached by a strange man.

Despite his internal conviction of adulthood something about being approached by a stranger at a lonely bus stop made his inner child shout out for his mum and dad to come and help. He was scared. Being scared was both embarrassing and annoying for a grown-up nearly-teenager.

“What the Hell do you want” he growled, scowling at the man and trying to hide his alarm.

…...

Hastur felt a blast of energy come off the small human. That was unusual. He stopped in his tracks, still a little way off, and watched warily. The little human seemed to puff himself up, he looked taller than before, the clouds gathered, making a dark halo around his head. Suddenly a fierce crash of lightening split the sky in two and hit the bus stop pole with a loud crack.

Adam screamed and instinctively ran towards the only adult he could see. His grown-up façade broke and he was again a little boy, scared and alone. Behind him the grass around the bus stop burned merrily.

The demon was startled when the small creature (definitely not totally human) summoned lightening from the sky then flew at him. He was all set to defend himself, taking up a fighting stance, when he realised the creature was certainly not trying to attack him. He was holding on tight, giving every indication of wanting protection and comfort. This was a new experience for Hastur.

His initial reaction was to fling the kid away from him - he was a demon, having a child cling to him like this was embarrassing. Then he was hit by the full force of the energy it was giving off. This wasn’t any normal human child. He felt himself forced against his will to cling back onto him, growling possessively and scanning the area for threats. His instincts were entirely subverted to protecting the child. He would kill anything that attempted to harm him.

It was at this point that Hastur realised he had found the Antichrist. The search was over. It was at this point too that Adam realised he was clinging onto a strange man after being scared witless by a bolt of lightening. He threw the man off him and scowled challengingly, daring him to say anything. They blinked at each other.

Adam’s temper simmered down enough to realise something strange had happened. The fire around the bus stop had moved, it was now surrounding him. He wasn’t, however, scared by this phenomenon. Through his chest and arms he could sense a power that was, at the same time, both entirely strange, but also weirdly familiar. The flames around his feet felt like they belonged there. They were his to direct.

As this thought hit him another followed quickly on its heels. The man, to whom he had recently been clinging, was also his to command. He sensed the awe in the other’s mind, he sensed the power he held over him. He knew that he would only have to give a command and the other would obey.

Blinking a couple of times he looked at the man more closely. There was something odd about him, something that didn’t feel quite human. He was suspicious and wanted to put some distance between them, he also felt obscurely that he shouldn’t back away, as if doing so would portray some sort of unacceptable weakness. The flames got fiercer, creating a physical barrier between him and the stranger.

“You’re him! You’re the master’s son” shouted the man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next couple of chapters are more plot focused - well looking at how Adam and Hastur get on and at how Armageddon II plans are hotting up…


	32. The No-Long-Ex-Antichrist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ex-Antichrist and the demon have a bit of a stand off and sort out what’s what.
> 
> A reminder in this chapter that Hastur is a demon - and therefore potentially both terrifying and evil… a reminder also that Adam is an unusual child and not to be trifled with!

Adam was stunned. He had no idea what the man meant, but it sounded impressive. He was ‘the master’s son’ - not plain old Adam Young. Who the ‘master’ was and how he could be his son he wasn’t sure. He’d never describe his dad as a ‘master’ of anything. Well, apart from his mastery of being mean to him and trying to keep him locked up against his will, he amended huffily.

Hastur watched as the not-exactly-human lost concentration and allowed the flames to die down. The spark of demonic energy he’d felt was receding now. He was puzzled. Surely the master’s son, having clearly got his powers ready at his disposal, wouldn’t choose to be a normal human child? He cleared his throat unsure what to say.

Adam jumped when the stranger suddenly made a gravelly noise and the flames flared up briefly, only to die back down shortly after. He scowled at the man “who are you? What do you want?”

The demon took a deep breath and began to pay an elaborate homage to his master’s son. The child was looking, and feeling, more and more human, as well as more and more confused. He ground to a halt, rubbing his nose and considering the being in front of him.

He knew he was right, no mere human could have created that lightening, that fire, have inspired in him immediate and fiercely protective loyalty. However, the child now seemed to be unaware of quite how powerful he really was.

Having learned quite a lot about humans by now Hastur didn’t bother explaining he was a demon. Humans didn’t appear to believe in demons any longer and he’d had to provide a demonstration on more than one occasion (he recalled cooking-human had been particularly stubborn, insisting he needed something called ‘psychiatric care’ before he’d burned several things to ashes with Hell-fire). Therefore, and without further delay, he skipped straight to the demonstration.

The sky darkened again and lightening flashed, this time circling the strange man and settling into a halo around his head. His eyes darkened until they were pure black and a noxious stench of sulphur began emanating from him. Something insidious made itself apparent in his immediate surroundings and Adam felt a brief wave of fear wash over him. He was convinced the person in front of his was not human. “W…w…what are you?” he asked hesitantly, immediately irritated by the wobble in his voice.

Hastur grinned widely, too widely, showing off some very sharp teeth and making a guttural growling noise low down in the back of his throat. Normally a demonic display of dominance like that would terrify a human, however, this one stood his ground, a little overawed, maybe slightly fearful, but certainly not as frightened as he should be.

“I’m a demon” he almost whispered in the most threatening tone he could muster. Feeling that this wasn’t enough he added in a slightly louder voice “I am Hastur, Duke of Hell”. He conjured another lightening bolt, not quite as impressive as the one the boy had called down, which annoyed him slightly, but it should have made the other cower in terror nonetheless. The boy’s reaction, however, surprised him.

“Huh! Only a Duke eh? I though Hell was ruled by the Prince of Darkness, not a stupid Duke. Doesn’t sound like you’re very important at all actually”. The small creature glared at him challengingly, and the demonic spark resurfaced, adding a red glow to his eyes.

Hastur was mildly stunned. It only took him a few seconds to recover though. “You think I’m not important? Not powerful? You think I couldn’t destroy you and everyone you’ve ever known?” His voice dropped a pitch to something horrible and rattling, threatening to a degree most people would never live to recount “you’re wrong…. so very, very wrong…”.

The demon started shifting, making his body twist and grow, a horrendous mix of maggots and rotting flesh, of burned and bloody extremities. Huge wings, black as midnight, beginning to spread out from it’s contorted form. Adam was not impressed, yawning theatrically. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen horror movies y’know, that sorta thing doesn’t scare me. It’s quite childish in fact”.

He got no further, Hastur bellowed out in rage, flames bursting out from the multitude of horrific orifices and fissures in his hideous demon form. He lunged at the small boy…. and stopped, inexplicably suspended, mid-leap.

Adam blinked a few times. Before him, frozen in its tracks, was the most monstrous creature he could ever imagine. Darker than his darkest nightmare, more terrifying than anything he’d seen before (even on the internet). For some reason he wasn’t scared though. He was just mildly irritated.

“Oh, stop showing off. Yeah, you’re a demon, point made. No need to get all melodramatic about it!” he exclaimed, waving at the figure dismissively.

Hastur stood down, shrinking back to a more human shape in sheer embarrassment. “Um, well, I needed to prove I was a demon. Humans don’t normally just, y’know, believe me” he explained in a cowed tone. He eyed the little human warily - there was a red glow still about his eyes and he could sense the power flowing through him.

This wasn’t how things were meant to go. He was a terrifying demon of great power who should easily be able to drive little humans insane with dread and panic. He remembered that this was the Antichrist so perhaps it was reasonable that he wouldn’t be frightened of a demon, no matter how impressive.

However, the power levels seemed to fluctuate wildly. Although the child was surrounded by raw energy in a fuzzy halo of static, his use of it appeared rather uncoordinated. It was like he didn’t remember how to tap into it, or didn’t understand how to channel it properly.

While the demon stood there, his mouth hanging open in a rather silly way, Adam scrutinised him. He had no doubt that it was a real demon, that much had been made clear by the transformation. However, why had this demon appeared here, apparently with the express purpose of talking to him? He didn’t even question why he - plain Adam Young - could apparently control a demon, for some reason it seemed natural.

“What do you want anyway?” the boy asked curiously. Hastur took a deep breath. There was a lot to explain. Not sure where to take him for a quiet conversation, and feeling an inexplicable need for a nice cup of coffee and a sweet biscuit (maybe one of those ones with pink icing), he took a chance and transported them to the ex-nunnery, much to the surprise of Mary Hodges née Loquacious.

The ex-nun was indeed surprised to see Lord Hastur again, this time accompanied by a child. She adored children, but this one’s weirdly off-putting reaction to her motherly advances was somewhat disconcerting. In fact she found herself more wary of the child than of the undoubted demon accompanying him.

“Get us some coffee and biscuits former-nun-human” Hastur demanded in a high-handed, but not unfriendly manner. He then added for clarification “the ones with sugar on, that smooth pink sugar”. Taking a look at the Antichrist he read a very clear thought in those deep blue eyes so continued: “and chocolate ones as well”. Adam nodded happily.

Mary did as she was bid. After depositing a mug of coffee, a glass of orange juice (feeling coffee was wrong for a child) and a big plate of biscuits on the table next to them she departed. For some reason she was grateful to leave the child in the demon’s care, which was a bit odd if she’d had the presence of mind to think about it. As she had a yoga class starting in five minutes she hadn’t taken the time to think about it and was just happy to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun with the Adam & Hastur interaction and there’s a bit more in the next chapter too. I posted them together as really they feel more like one really long chapter than two shorter ones. Oh dear, I’m still struggling with this chapter length thing again…. Hope it’s ok.


	33. Planning Armageddon II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur feels a bit of a kindred spirit with Adam as they’re both so angry about the world and everything in it. How will Adam react to Hastur’s evil plan? There is something weird in the air too….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think it too much of a stretch that the two would get along in the end... see what you think anyway

Hastur started explaining about Armageddon and the Great Plan. He was watching the child carefully, not sure whether he would be believed. However, the child showed no signs of doubting him. In fact he seemed to be lapping it up, demanding Hastur tell him more whenever he showed signs of stopping.

The demon continued with his story. He attempted to gloss over some of the details. There were aspects of what had happened on the run up to the failed Armageddon that he was not too keen to remember. However, there was something in the boy’s steady gaze that drew out the truth from him almost against his will.

Adam sniggered when the demon told him the imposter Antichrist had said he smelled of poo. Seeing the demon’s face he said seriously: “well, that sulphur and brimstone stuff is a bit whiffy. Maybe don’t conjure Hell-fire if you don’t want people commenting on the smell of it eh?”

Hastur was momentary thrown. How did the boy know what Hell-fire smelled like? Or for that matter: how did he know that, when he’d been stood in the desert with the all too obviously non-Antichrist child in front of him, he’d been barely holding back yet another ball of Hell-fire? Then he remembered that this was the Antichrist, his master’s son…. Blah, blah, blah. In short it would be a bit odd if he didn’t know things he wasn’t meant to know.

He still looked at the child warily. There was a lot of power being channelled through this small vessel and it didn’t feel entirely stable. In fact, there was a lot of odd feeling power floating around the child altogether. He seemed able to tap into it off and on with consummate ease, much more ease than he would have expected, and much more power too, come to that.

If he concentrated it didn’t quite feel right. He wasn’t sure why and every time he felt he’d sensed something it seemed to slip out of his consciousness. There was more than Hellish energy at work here, but he couldn’t keep focused long enough to pin it down. He kept on with his story, the embarrassment of the failed trial and the terrible aftermath being enough to distract him from the weird feeling he was getting.

He had just started on an elaborate apology for failing to find “The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness” earlier, when the child interrupted. “It would be easier if you just called me Adam y’know”. Hastur was shocked. He, a lowly Duke, was being invited to talk to the Antichrist on first name terms. He flushed with pride and thanked The Advers…. Adam… for his largesse.

Adam shrugged off the demon’s gratitude, the obsequious attitude of his companion was starting to feel a little embarrassing. He knew now just how important he was, and really was looking forward to ruling the world - just maybe not having all this bowing and scraping though. “Hastur, just call me Adam and act normal will you? We’re in this together now, like friends”.

Hastur was again thrown by the child. This was unheard of, he was to be the friend of the Antichrist, the Adversary… Adam. He’d never thought he would be raised to such a level. He puffed out his chest and smiled happily at the boy. His too-sharp demon teeth looked threatening and his aura was naturally one of unpleasant menace, but Adam just patted him on the arm in a friendly sort of way.

Mary peered round the door and saw that the demon and the scary child seemed to be getting on like a house on fire. There was maybe a bit too much of the fire element to make her feel safe in fact. She watched warily. Neither paid her any attention, but she still sensed a strange buzz of static coming from the little boy. He seemed to be pushing her away. There didn’t seem to be anything she could do to help anyway, and the fire wasn’t too big, so she left them to it.

Hastur really was enjoying himself, he wasn’t used to the concept of being friends with anyone. Apart from Ligur pretty much everyone else he’d ever known had harboured a not-very-secret desire to discorporate or severely injure him in one way or another. Being friends with someone was a new experience.

It also turned out that, when it came right down to it, a pissed off near-teenager and a thwarted Duke of Hell had quite a lot in common. They had moved on from the story of the failed Armageddon to complaining about the restrictions placed on them by their respective parents/Hellish Overlords and how everything was really unfair and they both deserved more respect and power.

Hastur was still annoyed about being exiled up to earth away from Hell. Adam was annoyed that he couldn’t get the bus to Oxford on his own and wasn’t meant to access the internet after 9pm. They both resented being told what to do and having chores to complete when they’d rather be doing cool stuff they enjoyed doing. For all of their grievances they knew exactly who was to blame and knew that they were entirely in the right in every case.

In short they were getting on very well - and the fire? - well the demon had been impressed by Adam’s instinctive control of Hell-fire and wanted to show off. In the end the Hell-fire creation competition got a little out of hand and the demon had to dampen things down for fear of burning the building down again.

Hastur gloated out loud “once it’s all been destroyed we’ll build it up from scratch, you an’ me - a new Heaven for us demons and a new earth for you”.

The Antichrist frowned. A strange expression flitted across his face, followed by a blackness filling his eyes. There was a sudden chill edge to the air and he spoke with a voice that didn’t sound wholly his own “the first Heaven and the first earth have passed away. He will destroy this new Heaven and this new earth. In his house he waits, dead but dreaming. There will be no more death, there will be no more sea. Behold he is coming”.

Something hummed just below the range of normal hearing and the demon felt a chill run through him despite the recent fire. He shivered slightly. What had the child said again? He cautiously reached out to touch the Antichrist on the arm, asking him to repeat his odd words.

Adam seemed to wake from a dream and spoke again in his usual voice “I mean we gotta go back, put things right, go back to the way it should have been. Destroy this rotten existence and set it right this time”. His eyes shone with enthusiasm and the slightly red tint returned to them. The weird moment was forgotten and they went back to planning the new world order to be ushered in after Armageddon II.

After a few hours the child seemed to be tiring and said he wanted to ‘go home’. With the Antichrist’s permission he used some demonic energy to transport the child back to Tadfield and sauntered off to catch a bus back to the train station. Although he could, in theory, just use a miracle to take him back to London, he’d got used to catching buses and actually enjoyed the train journey. It simply didn’t occur to him that he could do something different this time.

Adam was triumphant. He had been right all along. He was important, special, different from all the others. He had been sought out by a demon, a Duke of Hell no less - even if he wasn’t a Prince he’d decided a Duke was probably quite important enough, to begin with at least. He felt a pleasant buzz flowing through his consciousness, he knew he could control this lesser being - a demon Duke held easily under his control! He was going to show them all. He was going to rule the world.

Around this thought came a painful freezing sensation. Inside his head he felt something stabbing, like a finger was poking around in his mind. It almost felt like he was being manipulated, being influenced from the outside.

He pushed the thought to one side. The fire balls had been so cool and the idea of being able to destroy his enemies with a single thought was amazing. Also: unlimited internet access, and as many in-app purchases as he wanted forever and ever, was a very attractive prospect to the near-teenager.

.....

Hastur thought his plan was coming along nicely. Adam seemed very willing to re-run Armageddon. He actually seemed impatient to lay waste to the earth and begin his reign of terror, which was nice. That was the bit Hastur thought he would take the most convincing over, the earth was, after all, his home, getting him to destroy it had felt like a big ask.

However, the former Antichrist didn’t seem to like earth at all. He had kept up a steady stream of vitriol and hatred towards his fellow humans: overbearing parents and teachers, school bullies, other children better off than him, companies destroying the environment, capitalist bastards charging too much for computer games etc etc, it was quite heartening.

There seemed to be so many things Adam was angry about. Maybe if they’d decided to hold Armageddon on the child’s 13th birthday instead of his 11th there wouldn’t have been any of this trouble in the first place. He couldn’t see this Antichrist passing up the opportunity to rule the world.

As Hastur had talked to him he had fallen under the child’s powerful influence. His own grievances resurfaced and he forgot his recent ideas about having fun. Humanity had ruined everything and deserved to be swept away in a tide of demonic fury. God and the smug-bastard angels should be pulled down and a new Heaven (and possibly a new earth) built in its place for the triumphant demons.

A discordant buzzing on the edge of his hearing seemed to swamp out any recent memories of dancing and kissing, of enjoying himself and wondering whether Rahul would make it to the final of the Great British Bake Off. He was feeling angry again. He had a purpose.

The Antichrist seemed to have been channelling something more powerful than the demonic energy he was used to. It tasted different to what Hell produced, it was sharp and sweet at the same time, sticky, with a weird ozone smell. There was a hint of something dreadfully familiar about it too and it had made him shiver, despite the abundance of Hell-fire.

Hastur was suddenly very afraid of the child and unsure of where exactly his powers were coming from if it wasn’t from Satan and Hell. He pushed the thought to one side. This was the Antichrist, he was meant to be scary. Armageddon II was finally going to happen and the earth (and all the kingdoms thereof) destroyed, as should have happened over a year ago. What did it matter whether the power was coming from Hell or somewhere else?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hastur has a friend - awwww. A dangerous, destroying-the-earth, sort of friend, but he is a demon after all! Back in town for the next chapter and Hastur gets some R&R with his partner….


	34. Demons’ Night Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On reflection that whole Antichrist meeting was a little odd wasn’t it? Hastur gets back to London and he and Ligur have a night out - nice and simple chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved putting these demons into modern London settings and letting them run wild!

By the time he had got on the train to Paddington Hastur was thoughtful. After the initial triumph of having tracked the Antichrist down, and his elation at the child’s willingness to destroy the world, he was feeling a little flat. There had been something ‘off’ about the whole meeting.

To begin with it all felt a little too fortuitous - what was the child doing hanging round a bus stop in the middle of nowhere? Why had he been there too, at the exact same time as the unlikely child, in a place he had had no intention of ever going to again?

The child’s instinctive summoning of Hell-fire, and immediate ability to control him, was disturbing too. The Antichrist should be able to do those things when he was fully in possession of, and used to, his powers, but being able to do them straight away seemed a little odd. If he hadn’t been able to then he’d been in serious danger of being ripped apart by an angry demon, so it was a good job he had…. but still, it was odd.

Neither had the child shown any real fear. Hastur knew he was a fearsome demon, he normally terrified humans, it was fun, but the child had shown barely a flicker of it. Then the easy way they’d started talking, getting on, finding so many things in common, was peculiar now he thought about it.

Finally there had been the weird words from the Antichrist and that hint of something familiar near the end of their meeting. The energy floating around the Antichrist child had tasted similar to something he’d encountered before, but he couldn’t precisely remember where.

It felt like it was tied up with his time in Heaven, which would explain the haziness of his memory, but was also a very bad thing. It absolutely hadn’t been angelic energy and it had almost felt more evil than something Hell would produce. There had only been one incident in Heaven where he’d encountered a non-angelic energy and he’d spent over six thousand years trying to forget about that. He certainly didn’t want to start thinking about it again now.

With a jolt he realised they’d arrived back in London. He bolted back to the flat as quickly as he could, unable to shake the sensation of being watched by unseen eyes. Lots of eyes. He shuddered again.

Back at the flat Ligur was pleased to see him. Crowley was out doing the temptations and he was bored. There was only so much television he could watch. He was feeling almost back to his old self and dearly wanted to get out and cause some trouble. He grinned at his companion and bounded over to him happily.

Hastur was delighted when Ligur grabbed him into a fierce hug and growled into his ear “lets go cause some trouble”. Now that really did sound like fun - never mind all that mucking about with human stuff, he and Ligur could really have a good (bad) time.

There was so much he wanted to show Ligur, to share with him. He wanted his partner to enjoy modern day earth in the same way he was. It was all so new and exciting. He’d not felt this happy since…. well since forever. Happiness wasn’t encouraged in demons, by their very nature they were meant to be unhappy and discontented.

He was sure that was why Hell was in such an awful state. It had never been meant as a permanent home. Satan hadn’t wanted them to get comfortable. They were only squatting in the horrible conditions for as long as it took to recapture Heaven. Well, now he was on earth, not in Hell, and it was much much nicer. Time to share it with his fellow demon. In the haze of his happy anticipation he forgot all about his misgivings over the Antichrist. 

Outside he led Ligur confidently off towards the river. The last time the two demons had visited the Thames together it had been pretty much an open sewer, now there were seals in it, along with the fish that they ate. It was a sign the river was getting healthy again.

The demons sniffed disapprovingly. They’d preferred the stinky effluence and its steady stream of dead bodies - animal and human. Making bets on which corpse would float under the bridges first (and sometimes making the corpses too) had been a favourite pastime. Oh well, there were other things they could do to entertain themselves. Hastur again led the way, taking his partner’s hand and enjoying the surprisingly warm breeze. 

Ligur was somewhat overawed by the sheer quantity of humans bustling around this new looking, shiny city. The roads were wide, the buildings in stone, there was open space everywhere and the smells he associated with London had all but gone.

His memories were of a crowded, but essentially small and dirty place. The houses had been close together with overhanging eves nearly touching above narrow, cobbled streets. In fact not even all the streets had been cobbled, some were mere mud tracks. Animals were herded through the city to stinking markets and slaughter sites, full of dung and blood and the noise of panicked beasts. Areas near the river had hung heavy with the unhealthy miasma of tanneries, fish markets and the open sewer of the river itself. It was very different now.

He hung on to Hastur’s hand: the only familiar thing in the otherwise alien landscape. As they approached Waterloo station Hastur giggled in a definitely evil way. Ligur looked around the huge building wondering where the fire would be set, how many would die. However, Hastur didn’t kill anyone. Instead he reached into his pocket and pulled out handful after handful of pieces of paper, throwing them into the crowds of humans. Ligur was confused.

The cloud of £10, £20 and occasional £50 pound notes fluttered through the air, gently drifting towards the feet of the crowds in the packed station. Then something strange happened. The humans seemed to go mad. Ligur could think of no other way to describe it. They grabbed at the bits of paper, shoving and pushing, kicking and stamping on their fellows to gather as many of them together as they could.

Feeling his hand being pulled the short demon allowed his partner to lead him up a moving staircase and onto a balcony. They looked out over the sea of people. The shouting had got frantic and the injuries multiplied as the riot continued.

Hastur giggled delightedly. With a over-the-top snap of his fingers he conjured up a couple of glasses with something half frozen and red in them. Passing one to Ligur they chinked the rims, and tipped to drink. The cocktail was sweet and tasted pleasantly of fruit.

The squat demon smiled at his companion. The evil look on Hastur’s face, the way he watched the chaos he had created with such intensity, was wonderful. He held tightly onto his hand and the two leaned close together as they watched the mad humans swarming beneath them. It made up for all that time stuck in the flat, cocooned in blankets, sipping soup, unable to even sit up unassisted.

He was a demon, he thrived on the suffering of others, he adored causing trouble and disturbing the short little lives of humans. Talking to the Amy-human about it, no matter how good a listener she was, just wasn’t the same as actually doing it for real. He wasn’t quite up to causing his own mischief yet, but he would be soon, thanks to his Hastur. Inside him was a fierce joy, something so strong it felt too much to be contained in one corporation, like the feelings would burst out of him at any moment. It reminded of the books they’d discussed.

Ligur’s level of Lust education was quite a lot better than Hastur’s, but he hadn’t had much practical experience. In any case the demon take on it wasn’t skewed towards the gentler, fluffier side. It was more to do with the physical aspects - unrestrained, and often inappropriate, passion - well, less passion and more violence really. To demons Lust, no matter how enjoyable at the time, usually ended in something unpleasant, either emotionally or physically painful: adultery, stalking, jealousy and the such like.

He’d thought the pleasant sense of fuzzy warmth, and the feeling like squirming maggots in his guts whenever Hastur did something particularly evil, was entirely unique to him. Certainly nothing to do with Lust in any way. Now he was reappraising that assumption. It was comforting to know that Hastur felt the same, but disturbing to find that there was a human name for those feelings, and it wasn’t Lust. Not wanting to pursue his train of thought into a definitely undemonic emotional space, he concentrated back on the scene below him.

After about half an hour the police had got the station under control and escorted most of the rioters outside. Reluctantly the two demons headed to an exit too. Although there had been quite a few minor injuries, no human had suffered excessive damage and there had been no deaths. Ligur thought it a little out of character for Hastur, but it hadn’t stopped him enjoying the chaos.

His partner had hummed away happily, pointing out particularly vicious behaviour as the humans fought for the notes. He’d liked it when some extra greedy humans had taken to fighting and stealing notes from each other, rather than collecting the abundant ones from off the ground.

As far as sin went the scene was awash with it: Avarice, Wrath, Envy - and, with the money notes the humans had acquired, there would be many more sins to indulge in: Sloth, Lust, Gluttony, Pride. Yes; there was no doubt they’d caused a lot of trouble, just not in the same way as Hastur would have caused problems in the past. In fact, thought Ligur, it was much more like the sort of thing Crowley would do.

They walked on through the streets of London. A few car crashes and the odd fight broke out behind them as Hastur continued his steady stream of low grade mischief. Finding a nice quiet bar they went in for a drink. Again surprising his partner Hastur pointed a plastic oblong towards a box the human held out to him and, as it beeped, the human smiled and gave them their drinks.

“What you doin’? All this not killing people, it’s not like you, wassup?" He asked suddenly.

Hastur looked startled, he’d not actually realised that his current run of trouble hadn’t involved any outright killing. Ligur was right, it was odd. He thought about burning the pub they were currently sat in to the ground, maybe making the doors stick fast and listening to the screams. It didn’t appeal as much as it would have done in the past. For some peculiar reason the idea of causing serious pain to others seemed to make him a little uncomfortable now.

Watching people suffer too badly just made him think of what it had been like with Ligur gone, fighting in Hell and being exiled to earth. In short he was finding it difficult to enjoy others’ misery in quite the same way as he had before.

He still liked to feel the sin around him, to know that the humans could easily be prompted into being mean and nasty to each other. He had really enjoyed the scene at the station, holding his partner’s hand and watching the sinful chaos unfold without having to lift a finger, it hardly even felt like work.

“I reckon…” he started, scratching his nose, then continuing “I reckon there’s more fun to be had keeping the buggers alive an’ letting them do all the work - we can sit back ‘n watch, have a drink, enjoy stuff”. Here he stopped, confused as to where this idea had come from. Ligur was looking at him in a surprised way.

“You mean, get them to kill each other? What if they dunt want to?”

“Well, they dunt necessarily have to kill each other - although it’d be fun if they did” he conceded, looking at Ligur to ensure he appreciated the fact he still didn’t really *mind* humans being killed. He then continued more slowly “I reckon…. well I reckon, as long as we get ‘em committing lots of sins the killin’ bit isn’t necessary. It just makes for extra work”. He stopped, unsure whether he’d explained it properly.

Ligur was frowning in concentration. "So you think we can still have fun, even without killing people?" This was clearly a new concept to the demon and one that might take some time to get used to.

Hastur was nodding. He waved a nonchalant hand towards the pool table and a row broke out over the correct etiquette for putting coins on the table to reserve the next game. Voices were raised and one human swung a cue round dangerously. Hastur signalled the barman for more drinks. As the fight progressed, and they sipped their drinks, Ligur looked up at him. "You might be on to something" he conceded.

The demons had fun. A lot of fun. After a night of minor chaos they stood, hand in hand, on Waterloo bridge looking up river towards St Paul's. They remembered the cathedral being built, in the aftermath of a fire that they were both justifiably proud of. At that time the cathedral had been an impressive sight, towering over the tiny shops and houses alongside it. Now it was dwarfed by newer buildings.

The early dawn light illuminated the scene in delicate shades of yellow and orange, reminiscent of the colour of the flames they both remembered so well. Moving closer to his companion Ligur gently turned his head towards him and they kissed as the sun came up. Hastur didn't even complain when Ligur gave his bottom lip a painful bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to highlight some of the changes in Hastur compared to the oh-so-serious, evil, ‘destroy the world’ pre-Armageddon Hastur of the past.
> 
> Staying with more demon interactions for the next few chapters, including a bit more socialising for our favourite demon couple….


	35. The Flatmates From Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur and Ligur return from their night out, forgetting (?) that poor Crowley is trying to sleep before a long day’s work… I said they were ‘domesticated’!

Back at the demons’ flat share Crowley was less than happy. He'd been woken not long after dawn by his drunken cohabitants coming in. They seemed extraordinarily pleased with themselves. Giggling and laughing together like a couple of teenagers.

"Some of us are trying to sleep here. I have work later y'know?" He yelled from the bedroom. A cacophony of shushes and injunctions to 'be quiet' and 'don't wake Crowley' in ridiculously loud whispers followed.

It wasn't helped by Hastur's insistence that a lullaby would soothe their fellow demon back to sleep. Crowley was familiar with demonic lullabies from his impromptu career as a nanny, but Hastur's version had far more blood and Hell-fire than even he was comfortable with. It was disturbing even for a demon. He gave up and got out of bed.

Hastur was clearly quite drunk, Ligur less so, but neither were totally sober. They both grinned up at Crowley's scowling face from the pile of mattresses. "Make us some breakfast will ya? I want some of them thin slices of pig between bits of bread, and coffee, lots of coffee!" The blond demon announced.

"You might have me in a deal to do your temptations but I'm not cooking for you too. Use a blessed miracle if you must... and it's a ‘bacon sandwich’ Hastur - *bacon* not pig slices". He shouted in exasperation.

The two took one look at the red headed demon's irritated, flushed face, his rumpled shirt and his bleary eyes, and burst into new fits of giggles.

After their mirth subsided Hastur pointed out, quite reasonably "you're the one who wanted to let cooking human go. She made good sandwiches, with really crispy pig slices... bacon… whatever. You made us get rid of her, you ought to cook". Ligur poked Hastur painfully in the ribs at his use of ‘cooking-human’ and, in a rumbling voice, confirmed that *Amy* had been a good cook.

"I'm not cooking. I don't even know how. Why don't you miracle up some food?" Apparently miracled food wasn't as good. Hastur started talking in detail about all the new foods he’d found out about and which he liked most. Crowley was reminded of Aziraphale. It made him sad, and also cross, as he remembered Hastur was the reason he couldn't see his angel.

Hastur had started on how he couldn't understand why Hell hadn't discovered how wonderful coffee was when Crowley snapped. "You and your bloody human stuff. You like coffee so blessed much why don't you make it?" He glared at the other demon.

Hastur was surprised. In his mind he expected the other to be pleased he liked human stuff. As far as he recalled Crowley had always liked the humans. The idea of making his own coffee was also intriguing. He'd thought cookery looked interesting, maybe he could have a go at it.

Trying to remember what the equipment in coffee-human’s shop looked like he got up without a word and disappeared off to the kitchen. There was a lot of noise and a loud bang before he reappeared. He looked slightly damp and his jacket was charred around the edges. "Maybe we should go out for coffee" he said glancing nervously back at the kitchen as a glooping, gurgling noise started up.

They went out. Crowley followed, reluctantly admitting coffee would probably be a good idea after his disturbed sleep. Hastur led them straight to his favourite coffee place and was disappointed when a different human was at the counter. He'd been secretly looking forward to introducing Ligur to coffee-human. He hoped they'd get on. It would be nice to take both Ligur and coffee-human out, maybe try more cocktails together.

Ordering his usual quadruple espresso, he saw the new-coffee-human's shocked face and grinned. He got something called a latte for Ligur because he recalled his fellow demon had liked eating cows and latte had cow juice in it.

Crowley fussed about something called ‘single-estate, organically grown, fair-trade beans’. He and the new-coffee-human discussed the ‘fair-trade’ bit at length. Apparently it was unusual for a customer to specifically want to avoid anything labelled ‘fair-trade’. As a demon Crowley felt the world should remain unfair to give Hell an advantage and, after all, he was now working for Hell even if it was by proxy.

In the end settled for a black Americano, which was fair-trade simply because the shop didn’t offer anything that wasn’t. At least it was one of the more expensive blends, and not priced above the cheaper ones, so the shop made less of a profit.

Unbeknownst to Crowley his obvious knowledge and appreciation of different coffee types had cheered the barista up considerably and he decided to phone his mum and apologise for being short with her that morning. So a good deed was done as a result of the demon’s interference - this happened more than any demon was prepared to admit - humans were difficult to influence reliably.

Coffee mission accomplished, they headed back to the flat. The snake demon gave the others a brief history of coffee. It was something he considered a great success for Hell. From fomenting revolutionary thought in the coffee houses of the 17th and 18th centuries, via the invention of vile tasting instant granules, up to the current obsession with luxury exotic blends and, ridiculously expensive, high-end "instantly instagrammable" creations. He tried to take the credit but couldn't help see the scepticism in his fellow demons' eyes.

"You're lying" Ligur stated bluntly. "Not that it matters, demons should lie, but so long as you know you ain't fooling us no more".

Hastur, who had until now been sat quietly listening to the discourse, suddenly shouted "I can use my telephone to talk to coffee-human!"

Crowley was startled, then rolled his eyes "you mean you haven't even called her? Wasn't that why you got a phone in first place?"

"Text. You should send a text" Ligur interjected. The others turned to him and he looked embarrassed at the sudden attention. "I seen it on television, no-one calls people anymore that's too old fashioned, we're meant to be modern up to date humans, if you call her she'll think you're a boomer".

"What's a boomer?" Hastur asked, confused.

Ligur shrugged "dunno but it's a bad thing. Like you don't understand modern human stuff and you're really old, they call 'em generations like X and Y and boomers are really ancient, and sooo old fashioned". He rolled his eyes dramatically, just as he'd seen the television-humans do.

The six thousand year old demons thought about this for a bit. They silently decided that they didn’t want anyone thinking they were 'really old'. Hastur asked tentatively: "would we be generation zero then, cuz we were there at the start? We're like, the original generation".

Crowley had been scowling throughout this conversation after being called out as a liar over his coffee stories, but now pricked up his ears. "Generation Zero: The Originals. Hey that's pretty cool, be a great name for a band".

Hastur grunted, frowning deeply at the other demon. After a few seconds he couldn't help but grin. He was 'cool'. Gen Zero: one of The Originals. He liked the sound of that. He had another thought and asked "what is a text?" Thus instantly destroying any aura of coolness he may have acquired.

Ligur shrugged again. "I just heard about it on television I dunno know what it actually is". Hastur huffed irritably and turned to Crowley for an answer instead.

Crowley sighed heavily, then explained: "it's writing, like a letter. Only shorter and you do it on a phone".

They spent some time composing a text. Then some time discussing emojis and whether Hastur should use one, and if so which one. In the end he didn't, considering the weird human symbols uncomfortably close to demonic runes and worrying about summoning something he really didn't want to talk to.

The text read: "Hey Liz, Hastur here. I got a phone! Wanna meet for a drink?"

The demons then spent the next two hours listening to Hastur worrying about whether coffee-human would reply and if he ought to send another text. He complained that Crowley hadn't even let him give a time when they could meet, or a venue. What if she just said ‘yes’ in response - then what? He didn’t understand why the other demon had been so insistent he keep the text so short and ambiguous.

Hastur’s preferred text had read: 'Hello Liz. This is Hastur writing a text to you. I buy coffee at your shop, do you remember me? You should meet me and my partner today at 7:15pm (that’s in the evening not morning) outside the cocktail place where we was at before, so we can have some alcohol. Do not be late. I do not like people being late' - Crowley had banned him from sending it.

After a couple of hours Crowley was ready to start a new quest for holy water, stuff the consequences, Hastur was being insufferable. Then the phone made an irritatingly cheerful sounding noise and Hastur jumped. He read carefully: "Sure, finish@7 pick me up @shop" Crowley explained what it meant. Hastur had a date!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m glad I’m not sharing a flat with demons!
> 
> So this chapter is a set-up for more developments in the next one - obviously there is Hastur’s ‘date’, but the plot is going to pick up now too…


	36. Coffee-Human Revisited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur has a date!! Well, Hastur AND Ligur have a date in fact.
> 
> A bit of background for 'coffee-human', some fun and an attempt to segue into more plot developments…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realised I broke my new rule to keep each chapter to one event here, as there are several things mixed up in this one… Ooops. It's also a very long chapter so I probably should have broken it up, but too late now!

Hastur took Ligur along and arrived outside the shop just before 7. The only reason he hadn't been two hours early was because Crowley had put a hex on the door to prevent them leaving without a long complicated de-hexing process.

Hastur really didn't like lateness, which meant he was usually very early himself. Thus, even if the demon he was meeting was on time, he still felt they were late. It was one of the reasons he was often in a bad mood.

Coffee-human saw him and he waved carefully, to ensure she knew he was there. He was a little nervous about the evening, but really wanted to see her, and really, really wanted her and Ligur to like each other. Wanting two entities to like each other, and get on together rather than trying to kill each other, was a new feeling for the demon.

Liz wouldn’t usually pursue an attachment with a customer. It led to complications, potentially led to complications that is. They knew where her shop was. She couldn’t avoid them if they wanted to pester her. It was best to keep them at arms length. Be polite, superficially friendly, but don’t let them get too close.

She certainly hadn’t gone on a date with one before, but there was something about this man... There was a reluctant, but very real attraction. Things like the way his exceedingly messy hair contrasted with his smart suit. How, despite being blond, his eyes were so dark as to be almost black. How his occasional lopsided smiles felt totally genuine, and his awkward laughter made her want to join in.

First time she’d seen him she hadn’t noticed anything special about him. It was only when she realised, hours later, that she was still thinking about the odd man, who’d seemed so shy and unsure of himself, that she admitted she liked him.

He’d asked for: ‘very strong coffee, without the white liquid, and sugar, lots of sugar’. That had made her laugh and he’d laughed too. The next time he’d come in she’d asked his name. She prided herself on being able to remember customers without writing their names on the cups, like some mainstream coffee houses, but she wanted to know so had asked anyway.

Hers was an independent shop. She was proud of her business and wanted it to stand out from the other, cheaper, places nearby. It had taken a lot of work, but she’d built up a steady and devoted following of customers. The odd man was now one of her regulars.

He hadn’t got any less odd. His style of conversation was peculiar, almost like he’d been told the sort of things that made up ‘small talk', but without really understanding what lay behind them (‘the weather is very boring today’, ‘there are a lot of people around here aren’t there?’). It was quite endearing, certainly a change from the usual pleasantries and his comments often made her smile.

That he was foreign and only here temporarily for work was both reassuring and disappointing. On the one hand: it gave a definite end point - when he went back to wherever he was from she doubted she’d see him again. On the other hand: it gave a definite end point - and she liked him and might want to continue to see him. In the interim she justified seeing him as being a bit like a holiday romance, only in reverse.

The word romance made her a little uncomfortable, her last relationship had been wrapped up in the misleading blanket of ‘romance’. It had taken a lot to realise it was more abusive than loving. Nothing physical, but she’d found herself paying all the bills, doing all the shopping, housework and cooking and realised that, more often than not, she’d end up apologising for things he perceived as ‘faults’ in her completion of these tasks.

Then he’d started following her to work and watching from outside the shop, ready to start an argument about alleged ‘flirting’ with customers. He often said her clothes were too revealing, he stole her phone, read her messages, hacked her social media… the list went on. Well, now she was free of him and didn’t really want to walk into another heavy relationship.

She was very cautious, but this man seemed nice. Naive and undemanding, friendly without being too personal. He hadn’t asked for her number, hadn’t seemed pushy, conversed with her as an equal - maybe even someone he could learn from. He was working too (unlike her last partner), even if it was for an ‘evil’ prince (she’d had plenty of ‘evil’ bosses over the years so she could sympathise).

Finally the big one: he had another partner already. This felt important. It proved he could hold down a relationship and it surely indicated he wouldn’t be possessive or jealous. If she could meet this partner maybe she’d get some reassurance about Hastur’s character too - like a reference. It also meant he had someone else to fall back on if she wanted to stop seeing him - although that was a bit premature given this was technically a first date!

Liz saw Hastur waving at her. He was right on time, which was another good thing - being on time was a sign of being polite and considerate. He was accompanied by a shorter man who looked a bit nervous. By the way they stood close together, and Hastur’s arm almost unconsciously found its way around the other’s back as they waited, she assumed this was the ‘partner’ he’d mentioned. Interesting.

She really was pleased to see him and hurried up the usual closing routine to bound out and exclaim happily: "hey, Hastur. I thought you'd forgotten about me!"

"I do not forget" he said ominously. With an effort he managed not to add that he didn't forgive either.

Crowley had told him he had to say something about how she looked. He called it a ‘compliment’ and said humans liked them. It was meant to be something ‘nice’ but as demon’s aren’t nice he decided to just do the ‘observation and comment’ bit. He scrutinised her closely. She looked tired and her hair was a mess, so he pointed this out.

Liz found his less than complimentary attempt at a compliment highly amusing. She responded in kind, pointing out his hair was a mess too and he had grubby marks on his face. He beamed at her happily, as if she’d just paid him the most perfect tribute.

He then remembered to introduce her to Ligur (recalling she was called ‘Liz’ not 'coffee-human') and the two shook hands awkwardly. Ligur mumbled the phrase Crowley had suggested he use, in a stilted, awkward way: “Hello Liz. Hastur told me about you. It’s good to finally meet you”.

Ligur noted that, although she smiled at him briefly, it didn’t seem like she was really listening to him. She was paying more attention to Hastur. Weirdly she seemed genuinely happy to see his fellow demon. He’d never seen a human smiling happily at his Hastur before, it was odd. Hastur had been doing a lot of odd things lately, not that he minded, so long as they were together he was content.

"Where do you want to go?"she asked.

Hastur hadn't actually thought about this. After a couple of seconds coffee-human got that evil look he liked so much. "I know a great cocktail place, it's done out like a prohibition speak-easy, with waiters in fancy dress and they do flaring and stuff... It's a bit expensive though". She looked doubtful.

Hastur grinned happily "don't worry, I’ll put it on *my card* - I got one for work y’know? In fact I’ll put everything on my card - tell ‘em it’s all for work". He enjoyed the way she grinned back at him.

Apparently accepting drinks he put on his ‘work card' (rather than paid for himself) was fine. From the human point of view it was technically stealing. Theft was a sin, so that was a good thing/bad thing: whichever. Either way, it meant they could go to the exciting sounding expensive place without coffee-human worrying about the bill, which was what Hastur wanted.

He took Ligur’s hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, Liz took his free hand, and they headed off through Soho. The demons appreciated that walking three abreast like this effectively blocked the pavement and annoyed quite a lot of the other humans.

The bar was hidden behind a very nondescript door, coffee-human knocked and they let them in. It was dark and quiet. Hastur liked it. The barman was friendly and made them drinks with strange sounding names: Mary Pickford, Tom Collins, Bees Knees. He liked the way the barman showed off, tossing bottles around and pouring stuff dramatically - that was ‘Pride’ he could tick off his mental list now too. They drank a lot so he’d got Gluttony covered too.

Much to Hastur’s relief Ligur and Liz did seem to like each other. They talked about how London had changed (Liz was under the impression the pair had seen a lot of old films so thought the city would be like it had been a hundred plus years ago). They discussed the view from Waterloo bridge with all the new buildings. Between them the two demons gave her a first hand account of the riot at Waterloo station. Liz told them about the Tottenham riots in 2011 and they were suitably impressed.

They moved on to a restaurant in a dark basement, where all the food was laced with something very strongly flavoured called 'garlic'. Here they drank tiny little glasses of differently flavoured strong spirits called ‘vodka’ and Hastur told them about sightseeing in Oxford. Then they moved on to discussing the Great British Bake Off.

Hastur was tremendously enthusiastic about it. He liked the one called Rahul who had moved to the country fairly recently and didn’t quite ‘get’ some British customs. Hastur felt a bit of a kindred spirit with him over his occasional confusion about (British) human things. The demon wanted him to win, but wasn’t sure whether he would.

Liz then asked if he was still working for the evil prince, at which Ligur gave her a strange look. He admitted he was, but said he'd delegated most of the day to day stuff. She reminded him that he'd agreed it wasn't too late and he could still do something else.

Not getting any encouragement from either of them Liz dropped the subject. She asked about his phone instead and showed them how to use the camera. Then they moved on to filters and took each other’s picture with added cute little devil horns and then with halos and angel wings. She wasn’t sure why, but both her companions found this very funny indeed.

At the end of the night they walked up to something called Tottenham Court Road tube station (which was apparently nowhere near the Tottenham where Liz lived). The three stopped outside the station and, after a moments hesitation, Hastur bent down to kiss Liz.

The alcohol flooding his system, and the soft warmth of the human, made Hastur feel a little strange. As he thought this he felt someone pushing in and Ligur joined them in the kiss. He wrapped an arm around not only Liz but Ligur too, pulling the three of them together in a tight bundle.

Trying to kiss two people at once was confusing, but he decided he liked it, quite a lot actually. Maybe he was even happy. They separated, and the demons waved the human goodbye as she descended into the station.

Ligur turned to Hastur and said "I could get used to this earth stuff. Maybe humans aren't too bad after all". Hastur smiled happily. Then he remembered Adam and Armageddon II and felt uncomfortable.

As soon as he thought about the Antichrist he got the sensation he was being watched again. There was a buzz somewhere near the back of his head, an icy blackness threatened to overtake his vision, and he couldn't think straight. He heard his own voice, but he wasn't controlling it: "Behold, the day of the Lord comes, cruel with wrath and fierce anger, to make the land a desolation".

"You what?" Asked his companion somewhat startled. Hastur shook his head to free it of the numbing blanket of dark and cold.

He couldn't stop the words that bubbled up inside him "the first Heaven and the first earth have passed away. He will destroy this new Heaven and this new earth". He stuffed his fist into his mouth so the next words were muffled "the former things that are not remembered will return. In his house he waits, dead but dreaming. There will be no more death, there will be no more sea. Behold he is coming”.

Images flashed through his head. Something he'd once seen long ago. Something that had seemed dead, or maybe asleep, dreaming certainly. Something from outside, a thing that radiated a dark energy he now recognised. The same feeling he'd had with the Antichrist in Oxford. A terrible dread overwhelmed him and he had the feeling of being watched again.

"Gonna sober up" he muttered, feeling he might have a better chance against the watching darkness if his mind wasn't clouded by alcohol. To his relief it worked and the feeling of probing, curious tentacles withdrew. 

"What's going on?" Ligur asked, alarmed by his companion's strange behaviour.

Hastur took a deep breath and started to explain about his Armageddon II plan and finding the Antichrist. Ligur frowned up at him "thought you liked earth? If you don't we can always go back to Hell. Crowley's back at work now, why bother staying if you don't want to?"

His fellow demon looked dismayed "we can't go back. You don't know what it was like, what happened after the trial. It was... it was bad" he finished up quietly. He walked off quickly in the direction of the flat refusing to say anything further.

Back home Ligur demanded an explanation. Reluctantly Hastur told him what had happened in Hell, how he'd nearly been torn apart, how he'd only just managed to hold his position and had had to put up with exile to earth.

Ligur looked at him for a few moments. His Hastur had been betrayed by the very demons he'd been working with for millennia. Fair enough demons weren't trustworthy and it wasn't unknown for power struggles to result in serious injuries or discorporation, but they were going to kill him. Really kill him. Ligur was angry.

"What did Satan have to say about all this?" He demanded. When Hastur told him the Prince of Darkness had buggered off, and no-one had seen or heard from him since Armageddon had failed, he was thoughtful. "Bugger it. Let's just stay here then. That human said it: it's not too late to stop working for Him. What’s Hell gonna do with Satan gone anyway? They probably won’t even notice we’ve left".

Hastur was shocked "you mean go native? Join the traitor?"

Ligur laughed "you mean the traitor you got doing all your work? He ain't no traitor anymore is he? He's working for Hell. You're the one skiving off havin’ fun. Why not carry on? Beelzebub would have let them kill you. Satan isn't even there. The great plan failed. You don't owe them anything. You can retire. We can retire - maybe find out more about them haystacks an’ potting sheds they're always mentioning in them books". He grinned persuasively.

As has been said before, demons are good at temptations. Hastur was tempted. Then he remembered "what about the Antichrist? He ain't gonna forget about it".

"He's just a kid. Without any demonic influence he'll just go back to being human. You dunt need to worry about him".

The tall demon tried to explain that the energy from the Antichrist hadn’t felt entirely demonic. He said the coldly curious sensation of probing tentacles had, however, reminded him of something he really wanted to forget. Something that he’d sensed before and that Ligur knew all too much about.

He wailed out “I don’t want coffee-human and all the others to die, I like sliced pig sandwiches and coffee and cocktails. I want to stay now, I don’t want the earth destroyed. How will I find out about the Bake Off final if it’s destroyed? It’s not fair”.

Ligur tried to reassure him that, if he just left the kid alone, nothing would happen. Hastur knew better: "I sensed it. The same thing I saw when I was in Heaven. Something from the outside. It's awake now and I can't control it, neither can the kid. It is too late. This time the world is really going to end and neither we nor the opposition can stop it!"

They hadn't heard Crowley come in, but they heard his quiet request: "say that again". The low volume didn't disguise the anger in the other's voice and Hastur flinched. Normally he had no fear of his fellow demon but Crowley was giving out blasts of dangerously menacing demonic energy.

He started from the beginning. Crowley did something unexpected. He started swelling, getting taller and longer, more snakelike and definitely more threatening. The lights around him died and a swirling halo of red surrounded his head.

The other demons looked at each other, this was a very angry demon. They hadn’t seen Crowley get really angry before - it wasn’t as impressive as when either of them got really angry, but it wasn’t bad - well it was *bad*, that was the point, it wasn’t unimpressive though.

Eventually the now mostly snake-demon managed to speak. The words didn't do justice to their terrifying delivery "you utter, utter bastard!" He flew at Hastur who in turn began to take on more characteristics of his inner demon. The two monstrous creatures reared up, filling more space than should have been available to them.

Ligur intervened, separating the two before things got too serious. "No point fighting over it". Crowley seemed reluctant to back down so he added "Hastur would win anyway, an' you know it. He fought half of Hell all on his own and beat ‘em. You don't want to mess with 'im". He didn’t even try to hide the pride in his voice. His Hastur had fought half of Hell and won!

Realising Ligur was right Crowley deflated himself and the lights returned to normal. "Alright, but you have to fix this" he said sulkily.

Hastur looked alarmed “stopping Armageddon is your department. I wouldn’t know how to even begin!”

Crowley growled angrily, remembering the many many times he’d been stuck tidying up after the two demons and all the temptations they’d made him do. He was fed up of being the one doing all the work. “I did the last one, it’s your turn this time!”

“We’ll all do it. Work together like” Ligur uncharacteristically chipped in as a peace-maker, much to everyone’s surprise. It was mainly the surprise that defused the situation, both Hastur and Crowley looking at him in disbelief. The flat probably wouldn’t have survived a full-on demon fight, so being stared at was a price Ligur was prepared to pay. He rather liked his and Hastur’s new flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of an angsty back-story for coffee-human, but it is only background and the actual plot is picking up now too, so her history isn’t about to take over the story. They had a nice night out anyway.
> 
> BTW ‘Garlic and Shots’ is a real place in Soho and very nice too…. if you don’t mind smelling of garlic for days afterwards!
> 
> Back to Aziraphale next chapter - although the demons are still in it too - things are coming together and not necessarily in a good way


	37. A Plan - Of Sorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale senses a demon presence at the bookshop - it doesn’t feel like Crowley, who can it be?
> 
> Back at the flat the demons try to find a way to get Crowley out of his deal so he can ask the angel for help averting Armageddon…again…. and Hastur comes up with a plan!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this one (and the continuation in the next chapter) - Hastur having a Great Idea…

While the demon flat-share had settled in quite well (arguments over the TV and tidying up aside) the single angel household was far from settled. He was bored and lonely. Although, in pre-Armageddon’t times, he had often gone for years without seeing his demon counterpart, in more recent times he had hardly gone a day without him. Now he was back living alone and hadn’t really got used to it.

Aziraphale prowled around the bookshop in a most unangelic manner, picking up volumes, then putting them back down unread. Everything he looked at reminded him of the demon. The half-drunk bottle of wine they’d shared and that he couldn’t bring himself to finish. The near perfect copy of the Codex Gigas together with Crowley’s notes about the missing pages. He couldn’t even sit on the sofa where his demon had last sat - as if by doing so he would erase something precious.

He felt the demon’s absence acutely. Although, not a fan of sleeping ordinarily, since Crowley had moved out he had taken to sleeping at least once a week. The bed had been put in especially for Crowley and still retained some of his aura and smell. Aziraphale found it comforting. Unfortunately, sleeping cocooned by his lingering presence, meant he usually awoke forgetting the demon was gone.

It was these mornings that he found particularly difficult. His resolve to keep away from Crowley, and the other demons, for the duration of this ‘deal’ was slipping. He dearly wanted to see him again, if only to reassure himself that he was still alright. He worried about how the demon would cope in the company of really ‘evil’ demons without his angelic influence. Would he still be the same Crowley at the end of the year?

Sighing he made his way down to the bookshop, trying to decide in his own mind whether he wanted to deal with any potential customers today. On the one hand there was the danger that they might try to actually buy one of his books, on the other hand it would at least take his mind off the missing demon.

The hairs on the back of his neck started to prickle before he’d even got into the shop. There was someone there. Someone demonic. He stopped himself running down the stairs to see Crowley. What if it wasn’t his demon? What if it was one of the others? He had a sudden wish that he had retained his flaming sword, feeling the need of some sort of physical protection.

Standing indecisively, half way down the flight of stairs, he considered what to do. He didn’t want to walk into a trap, but he couldn’t stand here all day. He reached out with his senses to try to ascertain exactly which demon was in his shop.

What he got was confusing. The aura was not entirely like Crowley’s familiar one, however, neither was it entirely unlike it. It wasn’t pure evil, oh definitely demon, but not the same as he’d felt from the demons down in Hell. In fact, there was a definite feel of real concern about it. It was almost like the demon in question was worried about something - other than itself that is.

In his experience demons didn’t worry about anything outside of their own selves (Crowley aside - well mostly aside). While he was puzzling over the odd feeling he realised the presence in the bookshop had got nearer. It was actually headed towards the staircase! If he didn’t do something he would lose the element of surprise. He needed to go on the offensive.

Earlier at the flat...

Hastur had grumpily agreed they could ‘work together’. He wasn’t happy about it. He’d just managed to get rid of his workload onto Crowley, and the snake-demon was, after all, the expert when it came to averting Armageddons (the plural didn’t quite sound right in his own mind but he couldn’t think of what else to call them). He didn’t see why he couldn’t leave the whole thing to him.

“Right - so what do we need to do?” he asked in a surly tone.

Crowley stared at him. He had literally no idea what to do. The scenario of forces outside the universe somehow channelling power into this universe via a now ex-ex-Antichrist was somewhat novel. “Dunno” he said unhelpfully. Then he had an idea, it wasn’t a new idea, it was the same idea he’d had about every problem that had stumped him over the last six thousand years. “Maybe the angel could help?” he suggested.

It was at this point that he remembered. He couldn’t ask the angel. Aziraphale had thrown him out, didn’t want to speak to him even, and it was all Hastur’s fault. He needed out of this deal asap!

The row had progressed from there. Eventually Hastur had reluctantly agreed to try and end the deal. If Crowley wasn’t working for Hell any longer then he could speak to the angel and maybe find a way to avert yet another crisis. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was the only one they had.

Breaking an unbreakable deal wasn’t something either had tried before. Pacts with demons were usually done with human counterparties. In the case of humans, their death after only a few short years/decades, would end any deal quite satisfactorily (from the demon’s point of view at least).

Deals and pacts between demons themselves were rare. Most had sworn a pact of loyalty to Satan in a very ostentatious ceremony way back at the founding of Hell. However, most had had the presence of mind to keep their metaphorical fingers crossed behind their backs, thus rendering the ‘deal’ eminently breakable.

If Satan had noticed he didn’t say anything. Privately some demons thought it had all been some sort of test. Basically, anyone stupid enough to actually commit to unbreakable loyalty and servitude to Him, probably wasn’t the sort of entity He was really looking to sign up in the first place.

The demons who hadn’t had their figurative fingers crossed were either too embarrassed to admit it, or had been dispatched for their stupidity at outset. In short: no demon was prepared to be a party to an unbreakable deal without an ‘out’ of some sort. It made the very term ‘unbreakable’ somewhat redundant, but it sounded impressive so no-one had thought to change it.

However…. and this was the problem - Crowley hadn’t thought to keep his fingers crossed. He’d spent so long hanging around the angel, and so long with humans (who had no such thing as a deal you couldn’t break one way or another) that he’d really got himself trapped.

When Hastur had finished laughing at the idiocy of his fellow demon he started to look for loopholes. There had to be some surely? No demon would agree a deal without a way out, that was ridiculous.

Unfortunately none could be found. Hastur had dealt with the time-frame for the deal in their second handshake: it was set at one year and couldn’t be shortened. At the time Crowley had thought it a good bargain, but now he regretted it. If he hadn’t had a time-frame they could have ended the deal whenever they wanted. He’d effectively allowed a loop-hole to be closed.

They then considered the wording of the ‘deal’ - the only thing they could think of was that it wasn’t meant to be ‘full-time’ - could they make something out of that? Maybe if Hastur didn’t give him any temptations to do and just kept him ‘on retainer’ (as it were) that would suffice. Working part-time for Hell could, in theory, mean a ‘zero hours’ contract and he could take the remaining months off.

The loophole seemed perfectly sound to both Hastur and Ligur. Unfortunately it firstly relied on Hastur’s goodwill - he could at any time within the year change his mind and give Crowley more temptations. Secondly, it was a technicality - he would still, objectively speaking, be working for Hell. Just not doing any work for Hell.

Although this would be fine if it were another demon, or even a human, Crowley really didn’t think Aziraphale would buy it.

“Just don’t tell him - say you’re not doing any work for Hell now and leave it at that” Hastur said baffled. “He’s an angel, he won’t notice the way you word it, he’ll just be pleased you’re back”.

“You don’t know my angel” Crowley said gloomily. “He’s known me for six thousand years - he can spot a lie a mile off”.

Hastur was shocked “its not a lie!”

“...and, even if he bought it, how could I trust you not to go and give me a load of worksheets again eh?”

“I wouldn’t do that - you can trust me”.

Crowley laughed in a mirthless way “yeah right - trust you - you’re the worst liar in all of Hell”.

“I never tell lies” Hastur shouted defensively. The others looked sceptical and he conceded in a quieter tone “might be economical with the truth sometimes, or y’know, word things ambiguously, exaggerate a little, use the odd ‘terminological inexactitude’ here an’ there, but I’d never lie”. He sounded genuinely offended at the very thought of it.

Crowley groaned “tell that one to the marines!” He said, then had to explain what he meant, making Hastur act even more offended.

Ligur grunted “we all knows you’re a great liar Hastur. It’s one of the things I like best about you”. At this Hastur grinned and conceded that, yes, he was a great liar, but this time he was telling the truth - honest.

“Not going to work Hastur. The angel will see through it and if I have to explain that I’m relying on you keeping your word he’ll just throw me out again, only this time he might not want me back”. Crowley slumped down in the saggy armchair dejectedly. 

It was at this point that Hastur had his Great Idea. The capitals were implied in his explanation and enthusiasm. He: Hastur, Duke of Hell, a dishonourable demon of ill-repute (all worthy titles down in Hell) would go and explain things to the angel. He would sort it out and then they could get on with stopping Armageddon II and, as a bonus, Crowley could bugger off out of their flat and stop complaining about them hogging the television.

Crowley groaned, head in hands “go on then, but I warn you, he’ll probably smite you”. Hastur scoffed at the very idea of Aziraphale smiting him and headed off out to the bookshop. Before he got there he decided to play it safe - the angel might actually attack him after all - and equipped himself to deal with any attempt in that direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe a hint of a cliff-hanger here (a hill-hanger?) - I tried to include some in this piece (more to come later) not sure I’ve quite pulled it off! Practise makes perfect though eh?


	38. At the Bookshop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The angel prepares to face the unknown demon - will he smite him? What is Hastur’s cunning plan to avoid being smited…all will be revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This doesn’t really move the plot on by much but was fun to write!

Aziraphale took decisive action (unusual for him) and sprinted down the remaining stairs rushing into the bookshop with an angelic flare of light. The momentum carried him forwards into the shop and he banged his hip painfully against his desk.

The sudden appearance of a flash of Heavenly light, and the loud bang that accompanied it, startled Hastur, who had been quietly sneaking round the empty shop. He spun round to face the source, unconsciously taking up a defensive stance, ready to defend himself.

"Oh damn and blast it" shouted the angel rubbing his bruised hip. This startled the demon yet further. Aziraphale plucked something up from the desk and waved it in the direction of the intruder.

"Get out foul fiend, or I shall smite thee down in all thy wickedness" he declared in a slightly too high pitched voice. He waved his weapon in what he hoped was an impressively threatening way.

"You're gonna smite me wiv a letter opener?" Hastur asked cautiously.

At this point the angel realised the probable ineffectiveness of a small paper knife when it came to smiting demons. He concentrated. A flash and a whooshing sound later he felt he'd got the advantage. "Not just a letter opener, a *flaming* letter opener!" He announced triumphantly.

The angel looked challengingly towards his adversary, noting that the demon was clutching a very grubby looking handkerchief in one hand.

Realising he was being observed Hastur waved the greyish piece of cloth around vaguely, dislodging a cloud of what was hopefully dust onto the bookshop floor.

“See this” Hastur said, pointing at the dirty rag clutched in his other hand. He waited until the angel nodded before going on. “It’s a flag of truce… means I want to parley - talk that is - without no smiting”.

Aziraphale considered this. “Isn’t it meant to be a white flag?” Was his first confused question.

“It is white” Hastur announced huffily. Looking up at the scrap of cloth he conceded “well it was white once. Probably. Anyway it’s *metaphorically* white and that’s the important thing. Under the Geneva Convention you’re not allowed to do no smiting if I’m havin’ a truce”. He announced.

“You’re a demon! You don’t follow human law. Why should I believe you?” Demanded Aziraphale, deliberately allowing the flames to flare up from the now moderately impressive demon-smiting letter opener.

Hastur was sweating at little at the presence of holy fire and used the off-white-rag of truce to wipe his face while he considered his answer. He got a little carried away and decided to blow his nose while he was at it. The damp flag undoubtedly couldn’t claim anything other than a wholly symbolic whiteness now.

“Crowley sent me to talk to you” he said, slightly disingenuously, but it wasn’t really a complete out and out lie, so that was ok.

The angel lowered the flaming letter opener. “Crowley sent you?” 

The demon didn’t miss the hopeful note in the other’s voice. “Yeah, kinda. I need to talk to you ‘bout him and some other stuff too, but mainly about Crowley. You wouldn’t wanna smite me before you’ve talked to me would ya? Besides - demons might not follow the law but angels should”. He leant a little demonic influence to his words, probably unnecessarily, and maybe ineffective against an angel, but worth a shot.

“Oh, alright then”. Aziraphale put the paper-knife down. As he was naturally hospitable he added “would you like a drink?”

Ever suspicious Hastur added “you can’t poison me neither - that’s covered by the Geneva Convention too”.

“Of course I’m not going to poison you! I want to hear what you’re going to say… How do you know so much about the Geneva Convention anyway?”

The demon grinned widely “Hell wrote it! Do ya really think the humans would come up with a law that it’s fine to use mines to blow up food trucks so long as you don’t use ‘em on people? Or that you gotta help wounded combatants get better so you got a fresh canvas for injurin' an’ kill them all over again?”

The angel was frowning “I think you’ll find the Geneva Convention was our doing - it’s about protecting people from the worst excesses of war, not killing the innocent or hurting prisoners”.

Hastur cackled delightedly “you reckon coming up with acceptable rules for conducting huge big wars is angelic? If Heaven was really trying to help they’d stop ‘em having the war and using all them weapons in the first place. It’s all about makin’ the humans think war is ok - never mind the ten commandments, so long as it’s *lawful* they don’t think they’ll go to Hell”.

Aziraphale was really scowling now. “Sometimes war is unavoidable and having rules is a Good Thing. It’s civilised”.

The demon laughed in earnest, gasping to try to stop what was rapidly becoming an uncontrollable fit of hysteria. “Civilised war is a Good Thing - can you hear yourself!?”

The angel was quiet for a few seconds before saying thoughtfully “so, tell me, was it Crowley who told you about the Geneva Convention?”

Hastur stopped laughing and squinted at him “what if it was?” he asked suspiciously.

“Well, it’s just that, don’t you know, I’d really have expected something a bit more *evil* if it was Hell’s doing. You know, getting medical treatment for the wounded, not torturing prisoners and the suchlike. It hardly seems evil at all when you think about it does it? Crowley was always so convincing in those memos he wrote wasn’t he? I wonder if you even bothered looking into it?”

The demon grinned again “dunt matter whether we did or not. In fact, if it wasn’t him it’s even better. The fact they had to come up with rules about what types of killin’ and injurin’ is allowed just shows how evil they are. Nah - Geneva Convention is a victory for Hell whichever way you look at it - if Crowley had nothing to do with it then that’s plus points for him for lying on his report. Proper demonic stuff that. One in the eye for you lot of sanctimonious bastards anyway”.

Aziraphale picked up the paper-knife again and allowed it to spring into Heavenly flame “if that’s what you came to say then I’m afraid the truce is off”. He sounded genuinely angry.

The demon stopped grinning and waved the rag about again yelling “parley, cease-fire, no smiting!” He lowered his voice to add “I dint come here to talk about war anyway… well I kinda did, but I need to say something else first”.

“I’m listening” said the angel, not lowering the flaming letter-opener one millimetre.

Hastur suddenly wasn’t sure what to say. It had been a ‘Great Idea’ when he’d first thought about it. Go and see the angel. Sort it out. Now he was here, he wasn’t sure what to say. An idea occurred to him: “I’m sorry” he said in a loud and aggressive voice. He’d seen apologies on the television, and they’d seemed to work wonders, so figured it was worth a go.

“Crowley already said he was sorry - that’s not the point” said Aziraphale primly.

“No. I’m sorry. Me. Hastur: Duke of Hell. I’m sorry your dumb boyfriend was so stupid he agreed a deal wiv me an’ dint even leave himself a sneaky way out of it. Yeah, that’s it - I’m sorry and it won’t happen again: promise. Now can you un-throw him out and let him live here again? Also we need to talk to you about something, we need your help”. Hastur felt very proud of his thoroughly un-demonic apology and waited expectantly for the angel’s grateful acceptance.

“Wait a minute - just wait” Aziraphale was somewhat confused as to whether the demon was really apologising or just using it as a way to insult Crowley. “I didn’t throw Crowley out, I asked him to stay away while he was working for Hell. If he’s still in the deal then he’s still working for Hell so he can’t come back. I’m an angel Hastur, I can’t share a flat with a demon still on active duty now can I?”

“Dunt see why not" Hastur said sulkily. Adding hopefully "he’s not actually doing any work at the moment anyway, so it’s ok isn’t it?” Although Crowley had said the angel would see through the ruse he thought it was worth at least an attempt at deception.

“What exactly do you mean: not actually doing any work *at the moment*? Do you mean he might start doing some again in the future?” Asked the angel suspiciously, honing in on exactly the point Hastur had hoped he wouldn’t notice.

Annoying as it was to find that Crowley had been right about something, Hastur was nonetheless impressed. “Look, let me explain. It’s all a mistake. I never thought Crowley would let me bind him in an unbreakable deal - that’s just idiotic, no proper demon would let that happen - he was upset cuz you’d argued wiv him and it made him do something stupid. You gotta forgive him you’re an angel! I promise I won’t make him do no more temptations anyway”.

Hastur had deliberately used the double negative in that last sentence just in case he did want to make Crowley do more temptations at some point. Demons are all about technicalities when it comes to deals, pacts and promises.

As this speech didn’t seem to have convinced the other he continued “I know demons don’t normally tell the truth, but I am this time. Honest, you can trust me”. He smiled in what he hoped was a winning manner, but mainly just showed off sharp and dangerous looking teeth.

“Trust you!” Squeaked Aziraphale “you tried to kill Crowley and then tricked him into this deal. Why should I trust you?”

Hastur considered “I’ve changed” he said quietly. The angel didn’t seem to be won over by this confession, so he carried on “it’s earth what did it, an’ what happened wiv Ligur, and maybe the humans too. I think I might like them now, well some of them. I don’t want Armageddon II to destroy them all anyway and we gotta do something to stop it or they’re all dead. I even agreed to ‘work together’ with Crowley, that’s how much I’ve changed. We need your help too though”. He ground to a halt looking up hopefully at the angel.

“What do you mean Armageddon II?” Aziraphale's voice sounded ominous and Hastur reluctantly began to mumble an explanation. He saw the angel stagger, like he was going to faint. Springing forward he helped him into a chair, much to Aziraphale’s surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can just imagine Crowley trying to package up the Geneva Convention as a victory for Hell - he obviously doesn’t have a problem with lying in his memos - after all he did claim the Spanish Inquisition along with credit for starting the second world war…
> 
> Talking of Crowley we’re back at the flat with him and Ligur next chapter.


	39. Working Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ligur & Crowley are left alone in the flat while Hastur is off ‘sorting it out’ - they’re not really friends and it is a little awkward…. Sure they’ll be ok though…surely?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little plot advancement and a set up for events in the next chapter - these two were hard to write together, it doesn’t feel like they should ever be left alone in the same room!

Back at the flat Crowley and Ligur glared at each other warily. Neither liked being left alone with their fellow demon. Ligur was quite understandably cautious after what happened before the last attempt at Armageddon. He watched carefully, as if he suspected Crowley might have more holy water stashed away somewhere. 

Crowley felt Ligur may at any time attempt some sort of revenge, so he sat on the edge of the collapsing sofa, ensuring he kept a constant watch on his companion. The fact that neither were prepared to let the other out of their sight meant they were forced to stay in the same room.

The usual bickering over the television was conducted in a half-hearted way. Neither were really listening to the presenter pushing the unlikely claim that he was conversing with the dead in a picturesque English village somewhere.

The television died and suddenly both demons were on high alert. The blank, black screen seemed to be pulsing in and out. Some kind of energy flooded the room with uncomfortable static and a strong tang of ozone. There was a low buzzing sound, just below the register for normal human hearing, but within a range that disturbed the two entities in the room.

The room felt heavy and pregnant with undisgorged potential. The tension was palpable. The air was thick and tasted both sweet and sharp. It felt like the moments before the first flash of lightening heralded an almighty a thunderstorm. They tensed for the onslaught, expecting something dramatic and dangerous.

Instead of a violent attack the demons had the sense of things cautiously reaching out from the screen, feeling carefully, trying to find something. Both were overcome with an intense dread, worse than they’d felt even in Hell itself. They could feel the searching things getting nearer, calmly working their way around the room. Neither wanted to be caught by the invisible, probing tentacles and so they edged carefully towards the door.

Crowley felt an icy coldness wrap around his ankle and found he couldn’t move. He heard a high pitched wailing noise and it took him a second to realise he was the source. It felt like the top of his head had been lifted and fingers pressed into his brain. His vision was clouding over and the cold feeling spread up towards his corporation’s heart. Panic was rising up like bile and his screams were choked off by a sharp, sweet tasting stickiness in his throat.

Just before the darkness completely surrounded him he felt his arm being pulled hard. A voice that was not his own found a way out of his mouth "behold, the day of the Lord comes, cruel with wrath and fierce anger, to make the land a desolation. He will destroy this new Heaven and this new earth. In his house he waits, dead but dreaming”.

The demon tried desperately to stop the words, but more poured out “There will be no more death. Behold he is coming”. The final words were hissed out in a terrible voice: “where isss my brother? Where is Hasssstur?”

The grip on his arm tightened painfully as someone pulled at him again. The jerk seemed to free him from the cloying tentacles and it felt like a bubble had burst as he half fell out of the doorway onto the floor outside.

Ligur slammed the door in the vain hope the thin wooden barrier would stop the thing inside from finding them. Bizarrely, it seemed to work and the sense of dread retreated. “What was that you was saying? Why’d you ask for Hastur?” Ligur asked half suspicious, half relieved.

Crowley had no idea why the thing was looking for Hastur but had a very strong feeling that he didn’t want it to find him. Hastur’s story about the ‘things that lived outside the universe’ had been received with some scepticism down in Hell. In fact, most demons formed the definite suspicion that Hastur had been licking the walls. He’d stuck by the weird story though, despite it making him rather unpopular among the more rational demons.

There was something about the way he told the story that had always made it terrifyingly believable to the red-haired demon. It was simply too odd a story for Hastur (not the most imaginative of beings) to have invented on his own. Crowley had always been wary of him on that basis alone. Poking around in the dark recesses of outside-space, and finding things that shouldn’t exist, in a place that shouldn’t be there, really didn’t sound like a healthy pastime.

When Hastur had said that same energy was what he’d sensed in the Antichrist, Crowley had been a little sceptical, but worried enough to want to do something about it. Now he’d felt the energy himself he was borderline terrified.

If that thing could do this to demons what could it do to one small human boy? Even if he was the former Antichrist he’d never be able to hold that level of energy. Was that why it wanted to find Hastur? Was he perhaps an entity strong enough to take the sort of hit needed to let the creature in to their world? Angel-Hastur had apparently seen the thing before he’d sealed the rip in space-time, maybe it wanted that rip reopened… and then what? The demon shivered.

He realised Ligur was still waiting for an answer “I didn’t ask for him, it was whatever the thing in there was” he said flatly.

The other demon grunted and cautiously opened the door a crack, peering in. The television sprung into life “…is anybody there?” asked a human voice. Ligur answered “nobody here but us demons” pushing the door fully open and walking in, Crowley following gingerly.

“Its gone now” Ligur said unnecessarily.

“What was it? And how did it get into my flat?”

Ligur’s answer just confirmed Crowley’s worst fears. “It didn’t get in, not fully anyway. It’s looking for a way in, feeling for an opening. I guess it thinks Hastur can help - well him or the Antichrist, but the child is a bit too human to contain energy like that…. and it isn’t your flat Crowley, it’s mine and Hastur’s, remember that”.

Crowley looked cross at the ‘theft’ of his flat, but didn’t argue the point out-loud, settling for scowling and silently repeating “my flat, mine, its my flat” in his head until Ligur growled at him: “I reckon we need more help”.

“More help? From who exactly? Do you think anyone in Hell wants to know - or upstairs? They’ll be delighted the world is going to end again! Wanna go praying to Her for help do you?!”

“You shut it snake” growled the squat demon angrily. “I was thinking about the humans. Humans are good at being helpful, they helped me an’ Hastur dint they?”

“Oh yeah, really helpful, so helpful they might just have helped Hastur destroy their whole blessed planet mightn’t they?”

“Exactly” he said, completely missing the sarcasm in Crowley’s voice. “Humans is naturals when it comes to help. I’m gonna get one”.

“Get one?! *Get* a human. You can’t just pick up helpful humans off the street willy-nilly y’know. How are you going to explain it to them? Eh? ‘Oh hello little human, I’m a demon and me and my demon boyfriend have accidentally started Armageddon II, can you help us stop it?’ Not going to work! You won’t find a single human who’ll believe you, let alone want to help”.

Ligur was looking thoughtful. He bared his teeth at Crowley’s ‘demon boyfriend’ comment, showing some unnaturally enlarged fangs, before grunting again. “Dunt have to look for one, just get the old one back - Amy will help. Amy likes me”.

Crowley rolled his eyes “you kidnapped her, she doesn’t like you, she was terrified of you and your blessed boyfriend”.

“If you call Hastur my boyfriend again I’ll chop you up and make soup outta ya” he replied angrily.

“Why? Isn’t he your boyfr… y’know, whatever? You two have been together forever surely?” He was genuinely puzzled at the other’s irritation.

“Demons don’t have friends. We’re not friends. We’re partners. We belong together, not like ‘friends’ who might fall out or sommat - it’s forever. Saying ‘boyfriend’ makes it sound silly too and it’s serious… we’re together and it’s a proper serious sorta thing, and if you say ‘boyfriend’ again, makin’ it sound all silly and human, then I’ll eat your eyes”.

The slightly embarrassed look on Ligur’s face didn’t match the threatening tone one bit, but Crowley didn’t doubt he really meant to hurt him if he continued teasing. Ligur took a breath in, looking down and shuffling his feet, before continuing “anyway I’m gonna go get that human back”.

Crowley wasn’t quick enough to stop him reaching the door and opening it. He clung to the other’s sleeve “wait, wait you can’t go kidnapping people again! And what happens if that thing comes back? You can’t leave me on my own!”

The shorter demon looked surprised, then grinned maliciously “you want me to stay an’ hold your hand?” He laughed as Crowley realised how pathetic he’d just sounded, and how inappropriate it was for him to ask Ligur, of all demons, for protection. He let go of the other’s arm and Ligur was gone, leaving him alone in the flat.

He went warily back to the space that had formerly been his austere throne room, but was now a messy demons’ nest. He peered round the door carefully using his senses to taste the room. There was nothing there.

Well, actually that wasn’t true, the room was full of things, but there were no *unspeakable* things there. On second thoughts there may well be unspeakable things buried within the chaotic Hastur/Ligur mess, but he didn’t want to think about that possibility… At least there was nothing from the non-existent space outside the universe there any longer. 

Sitting back on the sagging sofa he clicked his fingers towards the television and watched as a figure in a suit walked through the sights of a gun before he turned and fired, blood began pouring down the inside of the screen. He hummed along to the music in an absent minded sort of way while he tried to forget about the end of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Ligur is not embarrassed about being Hastur’s partner - but he does get embarrassed talking about all those un-demonic ‘feelings’ - especially to Crowley. They're not human so the whole human relationship thing doesn't apply.... It’s just 'a given' that they’re together so why make a fuss about it? Least that's how I saw it.


	40. Amy Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ligur muses on the only human he’s really ever known and tries to find a way to get her to want to help him.
> 
> Re-introducing Amy - who has had a few weeks away from the demons - how will she feel about one making a reappearance?

Ligur wasn't sure exactly why he had immediately felt it was necessary to get Amy back. When Hastur had left he had felt a little abandoned. He obviously didn’t trust Crowley and that meant he’d had to keep the demon under close observation. However, being too close to him also made him jittery.

He was a little surprised to find he really wanted to see the human again. She had helped him - no-one apart from Hastur had ever helped him before. It was a weird feeling. It was also a feeling that he reluctantly admitted he had liked.

Before now, before the Armageddon that wasn’t, he had only ever had Hastur. Between them they had kept guard together, watched each other’s backs. There had been a measure of security in that, but nothing like he’d felt over the last few months.

Yes: being looked after by Hastur and the human, made to feel safe and comfortable almost constantly, had been a novel and very enjoyable, experience. For the first time in six thousand years he hadn’t needed to keep any sort of vigil. No-one had been trying to hurt him and he had actually been able to relax. Having once felt what it was like to relax, and simply enjoy eating soup and watching TV, he didn’t want to let the feeling go.

In some way, to him, it was the human that represented that sense of peace and safety. After the thing from the other side of reality (well what else could he call it?) had invaded his living space he desperately wanted that sense back. As it had been with the human that he had first felt like that, he thought she was the one he needed to find to get the feeling back.

Also, as Hastur had obviously picked that Liz as *his* human, he felt it was only right that he got to choose one too. Fairs fair - if Hastur got a human to play with then he was entitled to one as well.

Crowley said Amy was frightened of him but he didn’t think that was entirely true. She had been wary, even a little jittery, but they were demons so that was to be expected. She’d appeared genuinely interested in his stories though, and when he’d put his arm round her he thought she had felt comforted by it.

He’d also liked watching the human bustling about doing things while Hastur was away. She was… he struggled for a word… she was ‘cute’, that was it, cute and soothing to watch. He missed having his little helper, fussing around him, making sure he was ok.

…...

Alone outside for the first time Ligur looked around. He was still a little overawed by the wide open cleanliness of the modern city. Although, with relief, he noted a pile of dumped rubbish and a strong smell of blocked drains. No matter how much effort they put into hiding it, there was still that all too familiar human mess to sort out.

He reached out with his senses to try to find his human. She wasn’t too far away. He could feel her presence and he could feel her compassion. She was back helping again. This time she was helping humans though. Well, he’d soon see about that. He needed her help more, so the humans would have to wait.

The hospital was a short walk away. He meandered through the streets marvelling at the huge stone buildings. The sheer number of cars parked along the streets disturbed him.

He wondered about miracling up something that looked like a ‘car’ too. He’d done it before, but the concentration needed to sustain the appearance meant it hadn’t been any easier than walking. Besides, the sense of being in an enclosed space wasn’t what he wanted right now. He wanted the ability to get away from any weird tentacled monster as quickly as possible.

There was what looked like another train station by the hospital, and he stood outside for a few minutes remembering the fun he and Hastur had had with the humans at Waterloo. The riot had made the television news and they’d enjoyed re-watching the chaos. He sighed, no time for reminiscing - he needed to find Amy.

She was in a huge glass-fronted building with ‘University College Hospital’ in big letters on the outside. He found a relatively inconspicuous place to stand in a doorway nearby, and reached out to try to influence the human’s mind. It was not exactly an attempt at demonic possession, more like a temptation. He just wanted her to suddenly feel an irresistible need to come outside to where he was standing. It worked.

…...

Amy was confused. She had been in the middle of a re-bandaging a patient when she had felt an inexplicable need to be outside. Being conscientious she had finished her task but then abruptly left the ward. It was almost like something was calling her. Something really important.

She hurried towards the exit and, once outside, glanced up and down the street before letting her feet carry her round the corner towards the goods-entrance.

Ah, here she was now. Ligur was hit by a thought: he had literally no idea how to talk to humans. He wanted to ask for help, get her to go with him, but couldn’t think of any persuasive words. He considered using some demonic energy to tempt the human away, something that she wanted, some sin he could prompt her to want to commit.

He tuned into her thoughts. She seemed content. There was no sense of sin waiting to bubble up inside her. She wasn’t in need of money, wasn’t hungry, or angry, or lazy, she didn’t feel full of her own self-importance or have any need to prove herself better than anyone else. He was a bit stumped. As she approached he felt a peculiar nervousness building - what was he going to say? How could he convince her to come with him?

“Errr, hi!” he said as she got near.

Amy frowned, the man seemed harmless, but she had a natural suspicion of strangers starting to talk to her out of the blue. She was in her nurse’s uniform and so many of them seemed to think nurses were ‘sexy’. That was something she emphatically didn’t want to be - well certainly not in her work clothes complete with plastic apron and gloves. “Hi” she responded cautiously.

Ligur looked at the human. What did they say to each other when they met on the street he wondered. He screwed his eyes up with the effort of remembering what he’d seen on the television. Ah yes: “nice weather isn’t it?” he asked carefully.

Amy looked around. It was overcast and drizzly with a slight mist and a wintry chill in the air. “Ummm, not really. It’s a bit cold” she offered in return, beginning to feel a little uneasy. Why had she felt the need to come out here again?

“Yeah - I prefer it warmer too. I like warm” by the concerned look on Amy’s face Ligur guessed he wasn’t making the right impression. He tried a different approach “you’re a helpful human aren’t you? I mean: you like helping *people* don’t you?”

Amy was physically backing away at this point. There were quite often weird types hanging around the hospital and it had only just got light, still technically night. She was more than a little scared and looked around hoping to see a familiar face, or at least a delivery driver - anyone really. The side street was, unfortunately, deserted.

The demon sighed. He’d tried the subtle human approach, time for a more demonic one. He tried to remove the blockers from her memory and found their influence had already been negated. It had been replaced with something else, something that tasted slightly antiseptic, a little astringent, stinging his tongue and leaving an unpleasant residue behind it - in other words: angelic. He didn’t have long to puzzle over this as his energy quickly dissipated the mild angelic influence and the human recognised him.

Amy didn’t start screaming immediately. Her first reaction was to run. She turned and made it a couple of steps before a heavy feeling in her legs slowed and then stopped all movement. She was trapped. The guy she’d been talking to was suddenly frighteningly familiar, not translucent, healthier looking and generally less pathetic than he had appeared before. However, this just made him seem more dangerous.

Finally she found her voice and started yelling - mainly it was profanities, this being her go-to reaction to being kidnapped. If she thought about it, it was a little concerning that she even had a go-to reaction to a kidnapping, but it had happened too many times now not to have adopted a standard response.

When the demon grabbed her she resorted to more traditional screams. He put a hand over her mouth and nose, she flailed her arms out, trying to hit any part of the demon’s body that might make him let go. His palm was flat against her mouth, she couldn’t get a purchase to bite. The world started to dim around her as the lack of oxygen took effect.

Ligur sighed again. He’d been annoyed when Hastur had done this to the human (although also quite impressed that his partner had managed to render her unconscious without killing her). He hadn’t wanted to resort to the same himself. However, when she’d started up with the noise, he felt he had no choice. No matter how much energy he threw out, sooner or later someone would probably notice the fuss.

Now he had an unconscious human to deal with. He miracled up a car-shaped vehicle. Well, a vehicle of sorts, it looked like a child’s drawing of a car, a very young child who didn’t understand how basic physics or mechanics worked. It would, however, do the job of hiding both him and the human from view while he made the short journey back to the flat.

…...

At the flat the film was still playing. Crowley was watching as diamonds were passed from one shady character to another. He was familiar with the plot and felt no need to pay too much attention. However, he wanted the television on. He certainly had no inclination to have a blank, black screen staring at him.

Hearing the front door open, he shot up out of the chair, flying towards the door to the hall. As he got there he stopped. He had no way of knowing what was out there. Despite being a demon he felt afraid. That would never do, demons were not frighted of anything, they were the thing that frightened everyone else. He steeled himself and threw the door open dramatically.

The sight that met him was both reassuring and frightening. His fellow demon had a limp human figure, nonchalantly slung over one shoulder. “Giz a hand Crowley” he instructed.

Together they got the human onto the sofa, just as she started to regain consciousness. The human was groggy at first, but as the world swam back into focus the screaming started. Ligur sighed and snapped his fingers. She was immediately quiet. Awake, but unable to talk or move.

“Look Amy, I don’t wanna hurt you”. There was an angry glint in her eye as she struggled to speak. It wasn’t possible to break the demonic spell so she was forced to sit still, fuming internally.

Ligur got the ‘wrath’ and was quite pleased, until he remembered he was meant to be getting the human to help, not tempt her into sin. He tried again “you was helpful, and I need your help again”.

It didn’t seem to be working, Amy looked like she wanted to kill him, which was a bit odd considering all the effort she’d put into ensuring he got better. Maybe Crowley was right: she’d only helped him because she was frightened. He wasn’t getting any fear now, just a whole heap of anger. Normally he’d approve of humans wanting to kill things, but this time it was a little upsetting, he liked Amy, he wanted her to like him too.

“Please help me Amy” he tried in desperation. Being polite and asking for help were incredibly un-demon-like things to do and he tried hard to ignore the look Crowley was giving him. It seemed to have some effect as the human was calming down a little. He cautiously lifted the influence enough for her to speak a little.

“What the bloody Hell do you think you’re playing at? Damn demons, damn angels, I’m sick of the lot of you. Why can’t you just leave me alone?” He thought she still sounded a bit angry and took a step back in case she managed any movements.

“Sorry” he said sulkily. Apologies were something he’d seen on television - both he and Hastur had been fascinated by them. It was something demons simply didn’t do, well not in any sort of meaningful, genuine way. They’d both had an uncomfortable thought that admitting you were wrong and not wanting to do it again was maybe why She was willing to forgive the humans but not the demons. They shoved this thought to one side. They’d done nothing worth apologising for - it just wasn’t fair.

“You was helpful before and I need you to be helpful again. I’m sorry I kidnapped you, but it’s only cuz I need help - honest”. The demon was trying hard to be persuasive in a human way. For some reason he felt forcing Amy to side with them would not make her as helpful as he needed her to be. He looked intently into her eyes trying hard to project an aura of trustworthiness.

Amy watched warily as the sick demon (formerly sick demon) stopped speaking and just stared at her in a menacing way. It made the skin on the back of her neck crawl. His teeth were slightly too large, too sharp and his presence was almost suffocating. Yet there was something, some sense that he was trying to reassure her. Almost like he wanted her to trust him.

Amy shook her head, or at least tried to. This was a demon. He’d told her what he and Hastur had done in the past. She’d also watched Hastur incinerating the creatures he’d bought back as ‘food’. Demons were dangerous and she needed to stay on her guard around him.

Nevertheless she felt calmer. Maybe he was being straight with her. The angel had said he wanted to help her and she hadn’t believed him - in fact it turned out he was lying and had only been interested in getting information from her. The demons had always told the truth.

She relaxed a little, at the end of the day Ligur had been the kinder of the two and had wanted Hastur to let her go even before the third demon had turned up. He had also been her patient, and Amy still felt a residual duty of care towards him. She didn’t really want to hurt him did she?

Crowley watched amazed as Ligur seemed to talk the human round. She visibly relaxed. He felt Ligur dissipating the energy that was rooting her to the spot and braced himself to catch her if she ran. She didn’t, she just sighed instead.

“Alright Ligur. What do you and Hastur want this time?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked writing Ligur’s musings on Amy - I think he really does like her, even if he accidentally kidnapped her… Oooops!
> 
> We’re back with Aziraphale and Hastur next - will Hastur convince the angel to help?


	41. Aziraphale, Hastur and Coffee-Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Hastur - just when he’s decided to tell the truth, the (almost) whole truth and (virtually) nothing but the truth he isn’t believed!
> 
> He hits on a plan to try to persuade the angel of his ‘good’ intentions and takes Aziraphale for coffee to help convince him he really likes humans.

Hastur’s explanation about Armageddon II hadn’t exactly gone to plan. Actually, there hadn’t really been a plan beyond ‘go and talk to the angel’. Perhaps he should have thought more about it before rushing off to the bookshop.

The problem was the angel was not disposed to believe the demon on two counts.

Firstly he didn’t believe he had really changed - a demon was naturally not a nice thing. They were vicious and cruel beings whose prime goals were to tempt humans into sin and start the great war against Heaven. They were his hereditary enemies and he would never trust one, or accept they could want to do anything other than evil.

He then remembered that he was actually friends with a demon, very close friends in fact, and hastily backtracked a little. “Crowley is exceptional, I’ve known him for six thousand years and he’s retired anyway… although not now…..ummm”.

At this point Aziraphale got a little confused and started fiddling with his bow-tie. He wanted to explain what he meant: “I *know* Crowley wouldn’t… well… wouldn’t do anything *really* evil”.

He realised he was trying to justify himself to this demon and that there was actually no need for him to do so. He glared at Hastur declaring that, whatever the Crowley situation may be, he didn’t believe the demon now stood in front of him.

Secondly the angel wouldn’t believe the story about powerful beings that existed in the non-existent outside-space. This, at least, Hastur could understand. It wasn’t a comforting thought. It was what had turned him against God too, so getting an angel to believe in it was obviously going to be difficult. Just how difficult he hadn’t fully appreciated.

In vain did Hastur try to persuade him that he really had changed and this wasn’t just some trick. That the world was absolutely in danger and he wanted to protect it. “Just come an’ talk to Crowley he’ll tell you” he tried yet again.

Aziraphale pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing in exasperation. “How many times do I have to say it? I’m not going to see Crowley while he’s still working for you. I do not believe your wild tales about other creatures trying to get in. You are a demon and I will not listen to this heretical nonsense any longer”.

Despite this statement Aziraphale hadn’t made any move to try to throw him out, which Hastur took as a ‘win’. He tried again “why would I make it up eh? I wanna stop the earth being destroyed this time. You can at least talk to Crowley”.

The angel was shaking his head “this is a trick, you will never change. You are evil” he said simply. Although his words were dismissive he was, for some reason, disinclined to just throw the demon out. Maybe it was his odd apology, maybe it was an angel’s natural desire to believe the best in everyone, but something compelled him to keep listening, as if willing the other to convince him.

Hastur was hurt. Despite being a renowned and accomplished liar, the fact that he wasn’t being believed when he was actually (and much against his nature) telling the truth, irked him. He had another Great Idea. (Hastur often capitalised things in his own mind for extra emphasis, as if they were newspaper headlines. Mostly things such as: ‘Unexplained Death’ or ‘Rapidly Spreading Blaze’). 

He vocalised his new Great Idea: “tell you what - you can ask a human - ask her what I’m like now, eh?” He grabbed the angel’s hand and pulled him out onto the street before he could do anything about it.

“This isn’t funny Hastur - what do you think you’re doing?” protested the angel, trying to pry himself free from the other’s vice-like grip. The demon continued dragging him by the arm and Aziraphale was left with little choice but to allow it, as he really couldn’t start an ethereal battle in the middle of the street and remain unremarked upon, even in Soho.

The coffee shop was just around the corner. Hastur sincerely hoped Liz was working today. He was hoping so hard that, unbeknownst to him, the power behind his wish created it’s own mini-miracle.

Therefore, and somewhat to her own surprise, Liz found she was working today. She wasn’t meant to be, but she miraculously found herself in the shop with a hazy memory of someone being off sick - it was very annoying.

Finally reaching the coffee shop Hastur stopped. He then had the difficult job of persuading the angel of the immediate importance of buying coffee. He didn’t seem to understand why this was so vital.

Eventually Aziraphale gave up in the face of the demon's increasingly vehement insistence that they had to buy coffee right now and that the fate of the world depended on it. He shrugged at the small crowd, who were trying to pretend they weren’t watching the pair, and agreed to get a hot chocolate.

Liz looked up to see Hastur and a stranger walking into the shop. “Hey Hastur, how are you? How was your head after all those vodka shots?”

She smiled at him and was mildly surprised when, instead of answering her, he turned to his companion and said “see, she likes me!” as if this was proving some point he had been trying to make.

“I’d like you a whole lot more if you answered me instead of talking to your buddy there” she said, slightly tetchily.

The demon turned and saw the look of disapproval. It was vital to his plan that the human continued liking him, so he apologised in a panic “sorry, sorry Liz, I will answer you….”. Having promised an answer he realised that he wasn’t sure what she’d said. Feeling uncharacteristically worried he asked in a voice that was just a little too loud: “what was the question again?” 

She laughed at his concerned face. That was more like the Hastur she knew, slightly awkward in a way which she found adorable. “I’m not really annoyed sweetie! I just asked how your head was after our night out… and how’s Ligur doing too?”

He sighed in relief and smiled at the human. After a few seconds he remembered he was meant to be answering her. “We was fine thank you. I liked the smelly food, y’know… wassit called? Garlic, yeah, that was good”.

Aziraphale looked on confused. Hastur, Duke of Hell conversing with a human about garlic and shots. He could tell that the human was pleased to see him too. Liked him even, and seemed to have enjoyed his company on a night out. It was certainly odd.

A spark of angelic honesty made him admit that it supported Hastur’s story of having changed and of liking earth and the humans now. Maybe he should talk to Crowley. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to, but he had made a decision and was loath to go back on his word.

They both ordered drinks and Hastur paid - which again surprised the angel (he was pretty sure Crowley usually made the bill ‘disappear’ in a typical demonic way, although he was always considerate enough not to let him notice when he did it). After the demon exchanged a few words with the human, he shepherded the angel out of the shop.

“See? That proves it - she likes me dunt she?” he asked as soon as they were outside. His face shone at this evident victory.

The angel sighed again, just because one human seemed to like this demon didn’t necessarily prove anything. Although he recalled the other human, the one they’d kidnapped, didn’t seem to have been particularly mistreated. She’d also given some very odd insights onto Hastur’s relationship with his ‘partner’, but could he be trusted? That was the question. He shut his eyes to try and help the thinking process. 

Hastur took the opportunity of the angel closing his eyes to grab his hand and miracle them to the Mayfair flat.

…...

Crowley was startled. First Ligur, then Hastur had appeared in the flat. While Ligur had bought an unconscious human, Hastur had bought a very conscious angel. Very conscious and very cross as it turned out.

“What am I doing here? Hastur I told you, I don’t believe you. You had no right to bring me here, No right at all!” He looked round catching sight of the snake-demon and studiously avoiding making eye-contact. He continued “I said I didn’t want to talk to Crowley right now. I do not appreciate being kidnapped like this!”

He was regretting not holding on to the ‘flaming letter opener’ as he did his best to scowl at Hastur and ignore Crowley. Being convincingly annoyed with one demon at a time was enough work for the usually good-natured angel. He really did want to talk to Crowley and felt that if he once acknowledged his presence he couldn’t help but break his resolve not to speak.

Amy started giggling from the sofa “he kidnapped you! Ha ha, that’s good. An angel kidnapped by demons and all you can do is pout at him like a disapproving school ma’am! Aren’t angels meant to scare demons? Aren’t they meant to smite them?”

Aziraphale spun round when he heard the human voice. “Amy!” he shouted surprised to see her at the demons’ flat. Surprised too that she seemed under no demonic influence to make her stay, yet was showing no signs of trying to leave. He wasn’t sure how to frame a question so settled for letting his mouth drop open in surprise and stuttering “wha….wha….wha” at her for a few moments.

Crowley took advantage of his confusion to walk up behind him and carefully sneak his arm around the angel’s back. Aziraphale jumped at his touch and spun round - eye contact at this point was unavoidable. He also couldn’t help but smile. The familiar expression lit up his face like sunshine and crinkled the corners of his eyes in an adorable way.

“Crowley…. you, you….” he couldn’t think of a suitable insult to fit the situation. An insult would, in any case, be spoilt by the happy expression on the blond’s face. He settled for pure honesty - very fitting in an angel: “oh I missed you”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are hotting up a bit plot-wise and I’m working to bring all the characters together for an eventual finale…. Quite a lot to get through before we get there…..


	42. Dead But Dreaming....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale are back together and it looks like they’ll forget their disagreements in the face of Armageddon II. They spend some time trying to work out what’s behind it and Amy gets apologies all round.

Hastur was also surprised to see Amy “cooking-human! What are you doing here?”

Ligur growled at him and he amended the question: “Amy! What are you doing here?”

“He bloody well kidnapped me that’s what!” Although the statement was almost shouted it didn’t seem like she was too annoyed. More resigned to the repeated kidnappings. Mildly irritated, rather than really angry.

Ligur mumbled “sorry. I didn’t mean to kidnap you, but you wouldn’t stop swearing and screaming and the suchlike”.

“Yeah - she did that when I kidnapped her too” Hastur confirmed.

“Well? Aren’t you going to tell them I did it when you kidnapped me as well?” Amy snapped at Aziraphale, who turned red and started stuttering again.

Crowley stepped back from the angel “what does she mean when *you* kidnapped her?”

The angel squeaked, then turned to Amy and said “I didn’t mean to kidnap you” making Hastur giggle and mutter something that sounded like “at least I *did* mean to kidnap her, you lot are hopeless”.

Amy glared at Hastur angrily and he hastened to use the handy apology trick again, as it seemed to work so well on the angel. In a serious voice he carefully said “sorry Amy, I promise I won’t do it again” and attempted to look contrite (and failed).

“The angel’s sorry too I’m sure” Crowley said still staring in disbelief at Aziraphale. He then had another thought “so am I the only one here who hasn’t kidnapped you?”

“Yes, and he’s the only one who hasn’t apologised” she said indicating Aziraphale. “Least the demons apologised. Bloody angels” she looked cross again and the angel hastened to add his sincerest apologies for kidnapping her.

“Why did you kidnap Amy?” Hastur asked his partner curiously. Ligur looked embarrassed “wanted her back”. Sensing this wasn’t a good enough reason for kidnapping someone he expanded “we need help, an’ humans is good at helping, ain’t they?”

“I got the angel though - he’s the expert when it comes to stopping Armageddons-ies-es”

The unlikely plural made the supernatural entities thoughtful. However, Amy was more concerned with the ‘Armageddon’ bit and demanded to know what he’d meant. It took some explaining - although having already done this once Hastur was a little more practised. He paused at the relevant bits to allow Amy to express disbelief and anger and to berate him for potentially bringing about the end of the world…. again.

Surprisingly, or maybe not surprisingly given her recent experiences, Amy seemed more inclined to believe him than the angel had been. It was Aziraphale that started objecting and calling Hastur out as a liar when he began on the ‘thing outside the universe’. Crowley stopped him with a glance.

“There’s certainly something angel. Something cold and dangerous that reached out of the television screen and it wanted him”. He pointed at Hastur who looked startled. “Yeah, it asked for its ‘brother’ and then said it wanted you”.

“I ain’t got no brother!” Hastur protested “what else did it say?”

Ligur screwed up his eyes in an effort of concentration “it said the same as you did the other night ‘the lord is coming cruel with wrath to destroy this new heaven and new earth, in his house he waits, dead but dreaming. There will be no more death. Behold he is coming’ - well sommat like that anyway”.

Hastur looked uncomfortable and then re-told the story of his meeting with the Antichrist confirming the child had made a similar utterance.

The angel looked thoughtful “but it’s nonsense” he said slowly. “This is the first Heaven and earth - it’s after Armageddon that we’re mean to get the new ones, it’s in Revelations. One of the apostles sees what will happen - it’s a vision of the future not the past”.

“What about the house and the dead and dreaming bit? Wassat mean?” Ligur asked.

Aziraphale continued “well John - he wrote the bit about the first Heaven in Revelations. Charming man actually, knew this wonderful little vineyard that served stuffed vine-leaves and this amazing wine…” he tailed off as he saw the demons staring at him.

“Anyway, he also reported The Son as saying ‘in my father’s house are many mansions’ - maybe it’s something to do with that? I don’t know how someone can be ‘dead’ and 'dreaming’ at the same time though. It doesn’t make sense”.

Amy chipped in at this point “that’s easy - that’s Lovecraft - nothing to do with the bible or John”. The demons had evidently never heard of him and so she started to explain about the weird stories he’d written and of the wider Cthulhu mythos. On getting to the bit about a giant tentacled monster that will destroy all humanity if once summoned, the air thickened slightly and a low buzz started. Hastur looked alarmed and asked “where is this Cthulhu meant to be?”

As he spoke, the room started to get unpleasantly damp and chilly, despite the best efforts of Hell’s sulphur burners. A darkness spread up around them from the floor. All heard the words echoing inside their heads “in his house he waits, dead but dreaming. There will be no more death, there will be no more sea. Where is my brother? Where is Hasssstur?”

Hastur’s shriek bought them round and the room warmed back up again, the darkness retreating. Amy shook her head to clear the cloying darkness from her brain “he is meant to be stuck in a weird city under the sea - the real quote is ‘dead Cthulhu waits dreaming’” the chill started edging into the air again and a low hum began to irritate the demons.

Aziraphale managed to rescue the situation by chipping in brightly “I’ll have to get some of those books, they sound most interesting!” At the mundane words the ominous signs retreated and the collected demons breathed a sigh of relief. “Probably best not say that name again though” the angel added giving a worried glance in Crowley’s direction to see the demon looking warily around the room.

“Leviathan!” Crowley suddenly shouted. They all turned to him and he looked a little embarrassed, continuing in a quieter voice: “leviathan is a monster that rises up from under the sea at the end of the world when the seas boil - sounds like your Cth… you know who”. he stopped himself saying the name, looking around warily in case anything woke up again.

“Ahhh! That makes sense, yes Leviathan. Of course. In the bible. Not another god at all, something She created!” The angel sounded very pleased with this explanation.

“If it makes you happier then: yeah, might be” Hastur conceded with ill-grace (he’s a demon so what other sort of grace would it be?). He knew that this thing had nothing to do with the bible, or with Her.

It had come before, it was older and more dangerous, it was powerful enough to really rival Her - how She had managed to trap it in outside space he didn’t know. His Heavenly memories were hazy, but he knew he’d been angry when he’d seen the ‘thing’ in the place-that-shouldn’t-exist. It was that, that made him start to believe Satan’s theory that the angels had created themselves and been there before She jumped in and took the credit.

In Satan’s opinion She was a ‘hostile take-over’ nothing more - not that they’d coined that phrase until long after, but the idea of God as usurper of power had resonated with him. The important thing now though was to ensure whatever had come before stayed banished. Loath though he was to admit it maybe She wasn’t too bad after all, if the thing he’d seen was the alternative.

He continued sulkily “but *whatever* it is, the question is what are we gonna do about it? It’s awake now - not dead or dreaming - and it wants to get in”.

At this, a knock sounded from the hallway and the tall demon shrieked again. “What’s that?!” he yelled in a panic.

The knocking sounded again. Amy chipped in, laughing: “there’s somebody at the door. See Mr Angel there actually is something outside! Ha, maybe it’s Jehovah’s witnesses, we could do with some of them!”.

At the third knock Crowley decided to answer it. Before they could stop him he headed confidently out into the hall yelling “scaredy cats” behind him as he left. He absolutely wasn’t just showing off in front of his angel, he really wasn’t.

Ligur slammed the door shut behind him “we ain’t letting him in again until he proves he ain’t no sea monster” he explained. Hastur nodded in agreement and from the sofa Amy huffed - surely demons had nothing to be frightened of?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a couple of explanations as to what the ‘thing outside the universe’ might actually be - one more angel-friendly, one more or less proving Satan right… Up to you which one seems more likely. Hope you can enjoy the story either way!
> 
> Who is the mysterious visitor? We’ll find out next chapter…!
> 
> (Trying to build tension - not sure it’s working!)


	43. All Together Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley answers the door…. 
> 
> The flat is getting busier and the explanations more confused - someone will end up getting hurt, but hopefully not too badly.

Crowley approached the door with not a little trepidation. Although he had acted as if it was no big deal in front of the others, he wasn’t at all confident. He tried to tell himself that having an unknown someone outside knocking on the door was more unnerving than knowing who (or what) was trying to get in. It surely wasn’t likely that monsters from another dimension would knock anyway, was it?

He cautiously edged the door open and was confronted with a semi-familar face.

“You’re Coffee-Human!” he exclaimed without thinking.

The woman looked at him with a scowl and answered “and you’re the flash bastard that thought it was funny Hastur didn’t have a phone”.

“You sound just like Hastur! Pair of you deserve each other” scoffed the demon, wandering back into the flat assuming the human would follow. He pushed on the door to the living area and found it stuck fast. “What’s going on?”

“Who is it?” Ligur asked suspiciously.

“Who’d you think it is? It’s me, Crowley”.

There was a sound of whispering from the other side of the door. Eventually Ligur demanded “what’s the password?”

“Don’t be silly there isn’t a password, this isn’t some kids’ book with secret societies and passwords and things. Let me back in!”

“Password first” said the determined Ligur.

Thinking it worth a go Crowley said “bacon” in a loud confident voice. He heard the whispering again. Hastur’s voice was next “we ain’t letting anythin’ in until we knows what you is” he declared ungrammatically.

“Hastur! Are you ok?” the human asked and the door was opened immediately to reveal a concerned looking demon.

“He hasn’t done nuffin to you has he Liz?”

Liz shook her head, looking somewhat confused about the whole set up. “What’s going on?” she asked.

The pair were ushered into the demons’ living space. Liz looked round with some surprise. The flat, from the outside at least, had looked posh and modern. She’d expected something bland and impersonal inside if it was being provided by Hastur’s employer - superficially smart, clean and tidy. What she emphatically hadn’t expected was the chaos of the demons’ living quarters.

The burners were smoking, the fairy lights casting weird shadows and colourful pools of light about the room. There was a terrific mess of blankets, rugs, throws and pillows strewn about the place and the furniture smelled faintly of wet dog. Moreover, none of the inhabitants of the room seemed to think this was in any way unusual.

Hastur was fiddling with the buttons on his jacket, glancing nervously from Ligur, to Liz via Amy, finally settling on looking at Aziraphale. “Told you she liked me” he said sulkily.

The rest of the room were stunned for a moment. Then Amy demanded to know if this was another demon and the conversation got a little confused.

It seemed Liz was disinclined to believe that any of the room’s inhabitants were anything other than human. Amy’s insistence that they were demons was enough to convince her that Amy was mad.

Amy was exceedingly angry at the suggestion she was the mad one. She also saw no reason to stay at the flat since they’d got themselves another human to ‘help’. Ligur grabbed her arm asking her to stay and they began a heated argument over whether needing help was justification enough for multiple kidnappings and, even if it was, whether she - Amy - could help prevent Armageddon anyway.

Aziraphale attempted to explain to Liz that he wasn’t a demon, but that the others were. Liz was not inclined to believe him and Crowley jumped in to try to help matters by explaining the difference between the demons, angel and human in the room by way of a brief history.

Liz quite clearly didn’t either like or trust Crowley and was starting to think he was perhaps the ‘evil prince’ Hastur and Ligur were working for and this was a good reason for her to leave. Crowley put a hand on her arm to prevent this.

At the sight of this Amy started shouting about being kidnapped, pointing at Liz and saying they’d kidnapped her too even if she didn’t know it. This thoroughly alarmed Liz who made a bolt for the door, thinking that if there was an evil prince who thought he was a demon in the vicinity she was best getting out asap.

Crowley grabbed her more firmly to prevent escape, fearing that she would talk to the police about kidnappings and mad people believing they were demons. Liz rounded on Crowley yelling in his face that he had to let her go or else, without specifying what the ‘or else’ referred to.

Hastur was standing in the doorway looking on nervously as the arguments escalated. The shouting from various quarters was making him feel dizzy and he couldn’t latch on to any of the separate discussions. It was very confusing. The room was spinning and the sounds became a distorted mess that hurt his brain, he felt sick and could hardly stand up. Finally giving up he screamed loudly putting his hands over his ears and slid to the floor curling neatly into a ball.

This action caused several things to happen. Amy stopped all movement and shouting, instead clinging onto Ligur in sheer fright and mumbling something about fire. Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s arm in alarm, which in turn made him release Liz who ran towards the door.

Crowley had the presence of mind to stop her, but was only able to catch hold of her by use of a demonic transformation to extend a snakey tail around her waist. He hissed in a satisfied way “sssee, told you I wasss a demon” as the human turned to see him mid-transformation.

What happened next was unexpected and, at first, inexplicable. There was a loud buzzing sound and Crowley let out a high pitched screech, flying backwards. Liz, thus freed, went to help Hastur to his feet and, coincidentally, out of the way of her exit from the room. Hastur clung onto her though, so she was unable to leave.

Aziraphale grabbed the stricken Crowley to him. As he was still in half-snake form the demon coiled himself around the angel and hissed defensively.

Liz demanded of Hastur “What the Hell’s that!?” Grabbing onto him as if her life depended on it. He simply looked stunned, gazing at her hand clutching his arm as if he wasn’t sure what it was.

Aziraphale answered carefully “well dear, we were trying to explain. You see Crowley here….” at this point his words were cut off by another coil of snake being thrown around him.

Amy seemed a little recovered and said sulkily “told you they were demons” as Ligur nodded.

It was Hastur, however, who Liz seemed to expect an answer from. He pointed at Crowley and agreed “yeah, s’demon alright”. Before he could say anything further Liz had zapped the unfortunate Crowley again causing some impressive sparks and another loud scream from the demon.

Hastur intervened, pulling her a safe distance away. “Wassat?” he asked curiously and she showed him a small black plastic oblong with a metal plate at the top. He took the device off her and pressed the button, causing a loud noise and sending sparks a little way from the contact points.

“You got a taser!” Amy exclaimed “aren’t they illegal over here?”

Liz agreed that they were, while Hastur continued poking the device. It didn’t take long before he’d managed to zap himself and screeched loudly, collapsing onto the floor again. Liz took the taser away from him and watched concerned as he slowly stopped rolling around and got up.

“Can I have another go?” he asked hopefully, reaching for it.

“No you can’t. They’re very dangerous” she admonished him, clutching the device closer to her.

“You weren’t bothered about it being dangerous when you used it on me, were you?” Yelled a slightly more human looking Crowley.

The human yelled back at him “shoulda known you were trouble soon as I saw you, with your posh designer jeans, and fancy dyed hair!”

Hastur laughed at this while Crowley indignantly exclaimed that his hair wasn’t dyed. He moved on to tell Liz that Hastur was a demon too so he really didn’t understand why she was fine with one demon but not another.

Liz was confused and looked to Hastur for confirmation. This was tricky for the tall demon. He had decided he liked the human. It was why he had asked her round to the flat, he hoped that, seeing as she seemed to like them, she would want to help. However, now faced with an angry and scared human clinging onto his arm and aiming a taser at the room at large he wasn’t sure he wanted to explain that he too was a demon.

The angel tried again “my dear, I wonder if I can help…?” he had disentangled himself from Crowley and was reaching out to take her arm. Hastur felt himself pulled between the human and the angel like a shield. Being used as protection like this gave him a warm feeling. The human liked him and, it seemed, trusted him. Trusted him more than the angel at any rate. He smiled to himself, it felt nice to be trusted, it had never happened to him before.

Seeing which way his thinking was going Aziraphale said sternly “Hastur - you’re going to have to admit it you know”.

Hastur considered this. He reluctantly agreed he would have to admit to his demonic-ness if he was going to get any help. He gently turned the human to face him and manifested his wings.

It doesn’t sound too impressive put like that, but Hastur’s wings were, in fact, very impressive indeed. Liz watched as huge sweeps of darkness, glinting blue-black in the red firelight of the braziers, fluted out behind and above him, just brushing the ceiling with their tips. His eyes turned to pitch and picked up echoes of the red glinting fire. While it was an unnerving sight, she admitted he was pretty spectacular to look at.

“What the Hell!” she exclaimed pushing Hastur away from her, but only to an arm’s length. Keeping hold of him she looked him up and down. He had got that slightly nervous look again, staring at her intently, as if desperate for reassurance. He blinked at her and his black pupils reflected dancing flickers of fire from the burners. His wings fluttered slightly and the half hidden highlights in his feathers shimmered in the weird light.

Unsure what to say, she just spoke her first thought out loud. “You look amazing!” Hastur grinned happily at the compliment.

“He’s a demon. Why aren’t you zapping him?” Crowley demanded petulantly.

Liz turned to scowl at Crowley “you’re a nasty slithery snake though, and he’s, he’s, hmmmm, pretty damn impressive actually!” flushing a little as she said this, then adding defiantly “and he’s polite!”

Amy interjected at this point “yeah, so damn polite that he kidnapped me….. twice!”

“I never” protested Hastur. He considered the answer in the light of his new found ‘truth telling’ persona and added “not twice anyway”.

They explained from the start. Surprisingly Liz seemed to take the presence of demons in London quite stoically. Her childhood appeared to have been highly religious, even if she wasn’t that religious now. Her only comment about it was that ‘great auntie Violet’ had been right: the demons really did ‘walk amongst us’. Although she conceded great auntie Violet hadn’t predicted that they’d buy coffee too.

Her main concern was apparently about Hastur's intentions towards her. He had seemed so genuine. As if he liked her, enjoyed her company, didn’t have an agenda. Was he actually just trying to damn her soul to Hell? Was that the only reason he was interested in her?

Hastur solemnly swore that he hadn't tried to capture her soul for the master and promised not to try in future either. After looking into his eyes (and having a sneaky stroke of his wing feathers ‘just to make sure’ and definitely not because they were so pretty) she bizarrely declared that she believed him and was happy to stay.

She took a little more persuading to accept Aziraphale as an angel. His best endeavours to portray benevolent holiness being somewhat undermined by Amy who insisted that he too had kidnapped her.

Crowley interjected “for what it’s worth he is an angel, but it doesn’t really matter because soon none of us are going to be anything, or have you forgotten what this is all about?” This last comment was addressed to Hastur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fun to write - Hastur and his Great Ideas - yeah, why not invite humans back to your flat to help with Armageddon II?? That makes perfect sense!
> 
> Talking about Armageddon II - how is the Ex-Ex-Antichrist getting on? Find out next chapter!


	44. Jump Starting Armageddon II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam’s powers are resurfacing and he calls a whirlwind around him. Satan is summoned, he’s been pottering around Cornwall and rather likes it. Will Adam manage to interest him in re-starting Armageddon?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the centre of the action again - sorry I’ve been late posting, this holiday has been a mess even without covid (although that hasn’t helped) hopefully I’ll be more on schedule from here on in.

Adam had had enough. His parents had not been impressed with him returning home late, full of stories about spending time with demons at nunneries when he should have been doing his homework. They were even less impressed when he’d explained that there was no point him going to school as he was the Antichrist and the earth would soon be ending.

They’d shouted at him and told him he was being silly - childish in fact. It was the word ‘childish’ that set him off. He wasn’t a child. He was practically an adult and they insisted on treating him like a little kid. He was old enough to make decisions for himself and look after himself. He didn’t need them telling him what to do. If he didn’t want to go to school then he damn well wouldn’t.

He’d sulked in his bedroom, locking the door and refusing to come out. He waited until they were asleep to sneak out and get a big bottle of water and some biscuits, so he could prolong the protest. He wasn’t going to be bossed around by them!

When he did finally give up and leave his bedroom, he discovered the house was empty. That just about did it. They’d abandoned him! Given the time of day both of his parents were likely at work, but that wasn’t the point. He was hungry and they’d just left him. They were meant to be his parents. They should be looking after him, not just leaving him all alone with no food and no-one to care for him.

Adam raged. The anger of the Antichrist created its own particular type of energy. It summoned evil forces, or at least it tried to….

…...

Satan had decided he liked Cornwall. He’d eaten lots of crunchy shelled things, drunk a lot of cider and experimented with something called surfing. At this present moment he was investigating a place the humans called ‘The Eden Project’. The idea intrigued him.

His recollection was that the humans were silly little creatures with no discernible purpose or talents. They bumbled about the garden the angels had worked so hard on, trying (and failing) to properly look after the plants and animals. They were even given to eating some of them - what was the point putting in all that hard work making all things if nasty little people were going to eat them all?

Of course She had been terribly keen on the stupid beings. Losing interest entirely in the angels to devote huge amounts of time and energy making the new creatures happy and comfortable. The angels had been relegated to the equivalent of babysitters for the humans. He hadn’t been happy about it.

When he’d complained, asking why the angels were expected to devote so much time to the useless humans, She had told him that it wasn’t his place to question. Wasn’t his place??! He had been an Archangel and deserved attention and respect. Why should he be expected to run around doing all the work while the humans got to enjoy all of it?

After the rebellion, after he’d been cast out of heaven, the resentment had simmered. Then his demon-agent had managed to upset the apple-cart (he chuckled at his own joke) and the humans had been thrown out of Eden. Annoyingly they didn’t end up in Hell - they got their own earth to potter about on - and, even more annoyingly, She promised to ‘forgive’ them if only they followed Her rules.

She had been quite clear there would be no forgiveness for the demons though. It was then that he’d had his idea to persuade as many of the damn creatures to disobey as possible and capture their souls for Hell. That’d show Her! Wouldn’t be so keen on the humans when they all ended up in Hell would She? Ha!

So he’d gone to work. Well, not gone to work personally, he’d trained his force of demons and set them to work. Well, not trained them personally, he’d got others do that. He hadn’t done the ‘soul capturing’ bit himself either. It was the numbers that mattered, he was proving a point. His entire focus had been on readying himself and the rest of Hell for the next war… when of course (and contrary to all Her predictions) they would win.

….and they hadn’t won. There hadn’t even been a war! The only bright-side to this was that it had resulted in him finally visiting earth and examining the humans in more detail. He was surprised that earth was so much nicer than Hell (well most parts of earth anyway), but supposed this was yet another facet of Her unfairness.

After a while he’d decided that it wasn’t entirely true that the humans had just got a better deal of it. They actually seemed to devote a lot of their time to making earth a nice place to be. They built things and planted things - a little like the angels had done with Eden - but they weren’t being told to do this by any higher power. They’d just decided to make the best of it and set off on their own.

The Eden Project caught his attention because of the name. When he’d visited he had certainly seen similarities. It wasn’t as good as the Eden he and his fellow angels had built (they had been angels after all), but it wasn’t too bad either. The humans seemed content to make their own Eden and didn’t seem particularly bothered about whether She would let them back into the original one.

When he thought about it, it seemed like a much better way to get revenge. The humans had shown Her that they didn’t need her forgiveness, they didn’t need Her Eden, they could just build their own. He had already started planning the new Hell he could build for his demons.

Well, he wouldn’t do the building himself, he’d train them to do it. Well, he wouldn’t train them himself, he’d get others to do that…. but the point was it was a Great Idea and much better than a silly war where he might end up getting smited again.

It was at this point in his musings that he heard the annoying call of his wayward child again. He tried to ignore it. He wanted to have another look round that ‘rainforest’ bit again and maybe go somewhere new for lunch.

The Antichrist’s call got louder. There was something lending extra power to it. It caused an unpleasant buzzing noise that made Satan shiver, despite the tropical forest conditions. Sighing he gave up and allowed himself to be summoned to the source of the call.

…...

For a small human to summon so great a being as Satan, against his will no less, was no mean feat. For them to do it with no magical expertise, no sigils or circles, no candles or incantations, was unheard of. Adam didn’t realise the impossibility of what he’d just done, he just realised that there was considerably less of his house than there had been before.

Satan, you see, had a certain sense of style, and an image he wanted to maintain. He wasn’t going to appear in a sensible pair of walking trousers and boots with a breathable yellow waterproof jacket slung over one arm. No, he was going to appear as the terrifying embodiment of man’s greatest fears. In Satan’s case this meant big, red and angry, with lots of horns.

Adam looked around the wreck of the kitchen and up at the towering figure in front of him. Despite his earlier confidence, and lack of fear at Hastur’s transformation, he was a little overawed.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” shouted the tall figure, making the ground shake.

“Errrm, are you, y’know, are you my dad?” he answered a little hesitantly.

The figure shrunk down to a more normal size, retaining horns and wings but looking decidedly more human. “Humph, not according to you! You’re the one as said I wasn’t. You’re the one that wanted to *not* end the world too. Dunt see why I should even be bothered with you now”. He glared belligerently at the small human daring him to say something.

Adam felt a surge of angry energy: “well, maybe I don’t need you, maybe I can find someone a bit better than mouldy old Satan anyway!”

The blast of energy hit Satan in the midriff and almost knocked him over. That was very impressive. He found himself reappraising the small human. Perhaps he shouldn’t dismiss him out of hand, however, he had no intention of letting the earth be destroyed before he’d had a chance to finish his tour. He was just starting to enjoy himself for the first time in millennia, ending it now wouldn’t be fair.

“You can’t just re-start Armageddon you know? There’s admin involved, the horsemen to begin with, that’s not my department. You need War and Famine and that lot before you start anything. You can’t start a war without….”. He had been going to say ‘war’ but realised the utter idiocy of such a comment. “You can’t start Armageddon without the opposition either” he finished lamely.

Adam pondered this - the idea that Armageddon would take organisation hadn’t occurred to him. “Can’t you just go up there and start it?” He waved vaguely and Satan followed the waving hand to look uncomprehendingly at a cat sat in the higher branches of a nearby tree.

Satan stared back down at the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness. 

“No” he said decisively, and disappeared back to Cornwall planning on trying a pasty and maybe heading up to a place called Kynance that the landlady of the pub had recommended for its beautiful scenery.

Adam was now really angry. He called about him a storm. The winds whipped round the ruins of the kitchen, leaves and the occasional stuck cat were flung from the trees.

The sky darkened and lightening split the clouds in two. A ominous rumble of thunder followed almost simultaneously. The wind kept up its howling, increasing to a near fever pitch. The thunder provided the bass under-notes as the elements created their own Hellish symphony.

As Tadfield struggled to come to terms with its second Armageddon induced hurricane, Adam let his new found powers flow through him. If Satan wouldn’t help him start the end of the world then he was damn well going to get someone else to help. He felt himself rising up towards the eye of the storm. Something seemed to reach out to him from the darkness holding him in its freezing grip.

He was no longer in control of his own voice and the strange syllables came out in an incomprehensible stream "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the human, angel, demon contingent and…. what now? They really do seem to be lacking any coherent plan, maybe Hastur can help?


	45. Behold He Is Coming….

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting properly weird now - Liz attempts to recap and the others try to make sense of what is happening with maybe limited success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m a bit worried the final action scene goes over way too many chapters, maybe I should have condensed it, but there’s a lot of waffle I wanted to get through first….see how it goes

“So let’s get this straight” said Liz in a tired voice. The explanations had taken some time to sink in and she still wasn’t sure whether she had it right. It was all very alien to her.

It seemed the ‘evil prince’ Hastur had referred to was actually the, unexpectedly very real, ‘Prince of Darkness’ that her elderly aunts had warned her about throughout her childhood. At least Hastur didn’t seem to want to continue working for him… although the logistics of a demon resigning from Hell boggled the mind. However, on top of this revelation was a whole heap of other stuff that made even less sense.

She decided to reiterate to ensure she’d got it correct. “You” pointing at Crowley, “killed him” pointing at Ligur “with holy water”. Liz couldn’t help but sound genuinely angry at this - you shouldn’t go around killing people… demons… whatever the provocation. It wasn’t right.

“It was self-defence! I didn’t have a choice” cried the snake demon, trying to ignore Aziraphale’s half-shocked, half-disappointed look.

The angel tutted quietly “I knew it would cause trouble, I wish I hadn’t… but then…. oh and I suppose he is better now…”

Liz spoke over them “yes - Ligur got better. Thanks to her” indicating Amy, “who was kidnapped by you”. Hastur this time faced the pointing finger. 

“I only kidnapped her because I needed help and I didn’t keep her too long, I let her go and paid her, dint I Amy?” Hastur hastened to interject. 

Liz glared at him, he had always seemed so nice and now it transpired he’d been off kidnapping people! At least Amy appeared unhurt. She ignored his interruption. “While *she* was getting your partner better, you took it on yourself to attempt to restart an Armageddon that apparently was thwarted previously by you and you” pointing to Crowley then Aziraphale.

“...but I changed my mind, I dunt want the world to end now. I like it. I like you” Hastur realised what he’d just said and hastened to backtrack “I mean I like *all* you humans” pointing to Amy then back to Liz “and I don’t want you all to die!”

“Oh, well that’s alright then, so long as you’ve changed your mind everything is just fine isn’t it?” Amy asked sarcastically.

Hastur turned to her in relief, entirely missing the sarcasm. “Thank you cookin… *Amy*. See I even remember human names now” he pronounced proudly. “It’s not my fault. It was an accident, I accidentally restarted Armageddon and I want it to stop now. Please help!”

The demon’s evident distress affected Aziraphale who turned to Crowley “we really ought to help my dear. I know it’s a lot to ask and I know it’s not your fault… this time… but we can’t just abandon earth to it’s fate and what about Adam? He was such a charming little boy”.

Crowley sighed heavily “I already agreed to help angel. I just don’t know what to do”. By the look on his face neither did Aziraphale who started up with “ah, um, well…”

“I hadn’t finished yet” Liz shouted over them. The room focused back on her. “You found the ex-Antichrist and persuaded him to end the world….”

“It wasn’t my fault, there was the thing, the thing with tentacles and I reckon it was controlling us both. It’s not fair!” the tall demon shouted.

“..I’m just coming onto that bit… AND THEN between you and the ex-ex-Antichrist you called up a monster from out of space, or under the sea, that’s either Leviathan or Cthulhu”.

The entire room attempted to shush her as she said the fateful name…

Too late, something had heard. The air thickened and cooled alarmingly, making it hard to breath. A sharp chlorine smell hit the back of their noses, making the humans in the room cough. It started to get dark and it felt like they had got some thing’s attention. Something terrible.

“Where is my brother…” the voice came from Crowley, but it wasn’t his voice. It was sounded cold and ancient and maybe just a little bit sleepy. Aziraphale grabbed Crowley and turned him to face him, shaking his shoulders as if he could remove the unwanted presence that way.

“Where is Hassstur, where is my brother?” Crowley asked, looking round, as if searching for something. A cold darkness emanated from him and his eyes had turned from gold to black.

Hastur squeaked in a most undemonic way and tried to flee out of the door. His feet appeared to be caught in something, or more accurately *by* something. He fell down, screaming in earnest and clawing at the frame of the door trying to escape.

Crowley slumped down in the angel’s arms. He hastened to lower him to the floor, still watching Hastur warily. A groggy voice asked “angel? Is that you?” it was weaker than usual, but unmistakably the demon’s own. Aziraphale hugged him close.

Hastur was rising up, seemingly against his own wishes. He tried and failed to hold himself down by the door frame, eventually tearing part of the wood off with his clawed grip.

In a voice that was not his own he intoned “the first Heaven and the first earth have passed away. He will destroy this new Heaven and this new earth. In his house he waits, dead but dreaming. There will be no more death, there will be no more sea. Behold he is coming”.

As soon as the words stopped the screams started again, suddenly cutting off to be replaced with the unnatural voice again “the former things that are not remembered will return. Behold, the day of the Lord comes, cruel with wrath and fierce anger, to make the land a desolation. From ancient days I am he. Fear me for I am the first and the last. I died but behold I am alive, I have the keys of death and hades. Join me brother….”.

It ended in a horrible gurgling hiss. Hastur fell to the floor and lay still.

Aziraphale was looking puzzled “this is all nonsense, it’s all mixed up. It’s a patchwork of bits from the bible, Isaiah and Revelations I think. The quotes are jumbled. It’s meant to be ‘fear me not’ and the first heaven and the first earth ‘will’ pass away. I don’t understand”. He still clutched onto Crowley protectively.

In the interim Hastur had sat up and was clawing at his body, the screaming peaking in intensity. Ligur rushed over and grabbed him, holding him tight. “It’s ok, I’m here, the thing is gone now, it’s ok…” he tailed off into a near inaudible whisper as Hastur quietened down.

The humans just looked shocked, unsure of what to say or do. Crowley suddenly shook off Aziraphale and spun round to face Hastur, still held by Ligur “What did it mean ‘brother’?” he demanded in an angry voice.

Ligur answered “told you, told you, it’s the same as before, same as when he seen it up in Heaven. It’s what he said when we was angels - we’re all brothers within the formless darkness, from back before there was light. The thing outside of space and time, the oldest amongst us. It was there before the light, before Her. It remembers Hastur and it wants his help to bring the darkness back. It’s what he said before”.

Hastur looked at his partner “you remember? From when we was angels?”

Ligur flushed and admitted “yeah, I remember lots of things from back then, dunno why, none of the others seem to. Can’t remember names, but there are lots of details… things that I wish you could remember too”. There was the hint of a tear in his eye as if it was painful for him to talk about (which indeed it was). Hastur clung onto him tighter.

Aziraphale said slowly “God separated light from darkness, right back at the beginning, along with Heaven and earth - before then there was nothing - formless, emptiness, there can’t have been anything there…She made it all, made it all after the light came” He was looking frightened and uncertain. The concept of something in the nothingness that was there before God created light was not a pleasant thought. Especially if you added to that the idea that it wanted to come back.

“What if there was?” Unexpectedly it was Amy who spoke. Everyone turned to look at her, so she continued “what if there wasn’t nothing before the light? What if there was something in the darkness? If Hastur is it’s brother that implies you were all there before, that your God just hit on the ‘light’ bit and claimed the rest”.

“No dear, I don’t think that can quite be it. God separated the light from the darkness, but maybe She had a practice run, creating things in the darkness maybe. A first attempt at life, a first earth, only it went wrong so She bought forth the light and left the old stuff forgotten about in the darkness”.

Crowley continued the train of thought “…the bible doesn’t say the light came first does it? It says ‘in the beginning God created the Heaven and the earth’ only after that does it start on about light - the earth was in darkness - formless and empty - it was after that, only afterwards, that the whole light and darkness thing got sorted out. There could have been something before… something in the dark before the light even existed”.

The entities in the room fell silent, contemplating the possibility with some trepidation.

After a few moments of tense silence Liz spoke. She used a low, calm voice, but they could all hear something close to panic in it: “Where’s Hastur?”

They looked around, realising Ligur wasn’t holding the demon any longer. In fact Ligur looked unnaturally pale and his breathing was laboured. Amy rushed over to him, taking his pulse and listening to his chest. “He’s ok, just… asleep… deeply asleep” she started shaking him.

With a moan Ligur opened his eyes, manifesting claws that gouged deep into Amy’s arm “Hastur” he yelled looking around. “What have you done with my Hastur?”

This comment was directed at Crowley who shook his head “he’s gone, we didn’t see, we don’t know, he just…” uncharacteristically he stuttered to a halt unsure how to explain the demon’s absence.

“He’ll have gone to find the Antichrist. The kid is the one who’s channelling it into this world, he’ll have gone to find the kid”. Ligur sounded completely sure of this and the others saw no reason to doubt him.

“We’d better get going then hadn’t we?” Liz said in a calm, business like way. The other’s looked horrified, but reluctantly followed her towards the door. Ligur gently took Amy’s arm and healed the scratches - the first time he’d used his power to help someone - it felt weird, but not unpleasant. Amy thanked him - another new experience that he rather enjoyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another attempt at a cliff-hanger - again I don’t know if it quite comes off - all will be resolved anyway in the next few chapters


	46. Let’s Get Going!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The little party set out to find Hastur…. they don’t get far.

As it happened they didn’t get far. They found Hastur on the next floor down, lying on the landing with a worried looking old lady bending over him. “Oh hello dearie” she said to Crowley, looking relieved to see him. “I think the nice man looking after your flat has come over a bit faint”.

Crowley gawped at Mrs Choudhary, his downstairs neighbour. Did she just call Hastur ‘nice’?

“Umm, ngh, we’ll just help him back upstairs” he said stiffly as Liz knelt down to inspect the collapsed demon. She was still a bit annoyed with him for sneakily being a demon and trying to end the world, but couldn’t help but want to look after him too.

“Oh, I don’t think you should move him yet dearie, he sounded quite ill, not his usual self at all”.

Crowley interjected: "what do you mean ‘usual self’?”

“Oh, such a friendly man, always so polite. He put that fire out the first time we met quicker than you could imagine. It could’ve caused some real damage if he hadn’t been there to deal with it”. The old lady smiled at her upstairs neighbour happily.

That Hastur was, in all likelihood, the starter of the fire didn’t seem to have occurred to Mrs Choudhary. She hadn’t finished though, continuing “such a considerate young man, helped with my shopping and he tells me he’s been looking after your plants something lovely, promised me some cuttings the other day too”.

Crowley didn’t doubt that Hastur had been pushed into promising cuttings. Mrs Choudhary had once caught sight of his plants when she’d come upstairs to pass on some wrongly delivered post and had coveted them ever since. As coveting things was undoubtedly a sin he’d encouraged it. Unfortunately it turned out Mrs Chourdhary was an Olympic grade coveter and pestered him for cuttings every time she saw him. He’d taken to sneaking past her door on tip toe to avoid her.

“Crowley dear, you’re staring” Aziraphale gently chided the stunned demon. He smiled winningly at Mrs Choudhary, pushing Amy forwards “this young lady is a nurse” he explained unnecessarily given her nurse’s uniform. “She’ll help us take care of nice Mr Hastur”.

Mrs Choudhary seemed reluctant to leave, still chattering away about the ‘nice young man’ who’d been so considerate when the lift had broken, although, really she didn’t quite remember how they’d got up all those stairs and those cuttings now, maybe if he had a minute while the nice young man recovered…..

They ignored the chattering and carried Hastur upstairs between them, laying him down on the sofa. Amy fussed over him for a little while, before declaring him ‘fine’. In fact, she had a sneaky suspicion that he had woken up some time ago but was too embarrassed by Mrs Choudhary’s verbal appreciation of how ‘nice’ he was to actually admit it.

Hastur had actually just been trying to avoid a conversation with his neighbour, having been virtually pinned to the wall several times by the exceedingly talkative old lady.

Ligur lifted Hastur’s head gently and sat down, resting the other demon’s head back upon his lap and stroking his hair. Crowley watched warily, while Aziraphale gave them a soppy smile and a barely suppressed ‘awww’.

Effecting a theatrical ‘I’ve only just regained consciousness’ act Hastur put a hand to his forehead and opened his eyes, sighing deeply. “Where am I?” he asked weakly, allowing his eyes to flutter shut again.

Amy humphed and rolled her eyes “you know damn well where you are Hastur, making us carry you up all those stairs like a big baby”.

Hastur squinted at her through one eye and growled angrily, while trying to maintain his ‘on the verge of collapse’ act, presumably for Ligur’s benefit. Liz, however, was also concerned and dragged a cushion up to sit at his side, taking one hand and asking gently “are you ok now Hastur?”

He sighed heavily, letting out a would-be pained whine “oooh, I don’t feel well”.

Amy looked sternly at the little group. “Hastur, stop this play-acting now and tell us what’s going on. Why did that thing call you its brother and why did you disappear? Eh? I’m waiting….” a cross nurse can employ a voice that even the most fearsome of demons will cringe at.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Still trying to maintain his ‘poor hard done by demon’ status he said sulkily “dunno” and effected a dramatic sigh as he fell back onto Ligur’s lap. Following this up with a triumphant sounding “told ya so, dint I angel? Told ya there was things outside of reality… and they’re awake now”.

“Yes, yes, as you say, there is something. Probably one of Her early projects, didn’t quite work out you know, best forgotten about really”.

“...the former things that are not remembered?” Hastur asked and giggled, following it up with a hiccup and a strange gurgle. His voice took on the weird intonation again to say “there will be no more death” before he regained control.

Amy had the grace to look apologetic at this “maybe you aren’t that well” she conceded. Looking at him doubtfully.

“We need to find that kid” Hastur said in a stronger and altogether more serious voice. He sat up properly this time and looked around the room. “Come on you lot, can’t sit around here and hope it goes away, we need to get to Tadfield!”

Amy edged towards him holding out a hand, intending to try to take his pulse again, or maybe feel his forehead to see if he had a temperature. The demon snarled as she approached and slapped her hand away.

“He will destroy this new Heaven and this new earth. Behold he is coming”. The words were shouted and seemingly not of Hastur’s making.

“Hastur, sweetie, look at me” said Liz gently. She moved slowly, letting her hand just rest against his cheek. “His eyes are black!” She exclaimed.

Ligur grunted “that’s normal for Hastur. He *is* a demon after all”.

Amy wasn’t too convinced “they were black before, but now, well, now it’s like there’s something else, blacker than black, like an empty void”.

“I’m fine, all of you stop fussing. We need to get to Tadfield - there’s a train from Paddington in half an hour we can just catch it”. Hastur attempted to get up from the sofa only to be held in place by the joint efforts of Ligur and Liz.

“I think he might have a point” said Aziraphale thoughtfully “I mean, that’s where it started isn’t it? The boy is the key to it, same as before… poor little mite”.

Hastur grinned, looking much more like himself, “that kid is evil, you shoulda heard what he wanted to do to the headteacher at that school of his, and I thought me and Lig were vicious!”

The angel pursed his lips in a disapproving manner “I’m sure he was joking” and Hastur cackled.

“Why don’t I just drive us to Tadfield?” Crowley interjected.

“I ain’t getting in that car again. I still got ‘post traumatic stress’ after the last time” announced the blond demon.

Crowley looked at Aziraphale who shrugged. “We wouldn’t all fit in the Bentley anyhow and you know it”.

“There’s no ‘all’ about it. It’s you and me angel. We can’t take the humans with us, it’s far too dangerous, and as for those two…. Well we wouldn’t even be in this mess if it wasn’t for them”.

“I’m coming” declared Amy unexpectedly. They couldn’t dissuade her, apparently being repeatedly kidnapped by demons and angels had made her somewhat blasé when it came to danger.

Ligur wouldn’t let her go on her own and didn’t want to leave Hastur. Liz refused to be left behind all alone, saying reasonably “if the world is going to end then it doesn’t matter whether I’m in London or Tadfield does it?”

So, they were back to the problem of space again. Hastur again suggested the train, which Crowley refused to even countenance. For once it was a case of Hastur being the more up to date of the two, as the snake-demon seemed to think the soot and smoke from the engines would ruin his suit.

Hastur cackled as he explained about diesel engines, only to be outdone by Liz who confirmed the line had been electrified. Some debate ensued about whether the whole line had been electrified or if bi-mode trains were still being used.

The angel cut through the chatter “Hastur is right…. no not about the overhead lines, about us needing to go. Crowley and I will go by car and the rest of you can get the train and we’ll meet you there”.

The plan finally being agreed they set off in their separate directions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The little old lady who lives on the floor below is mentioned in the book - but no details. I like the idea that she terrifies the demons, demanding plant cuttings, talking incessantly and somehow persuading them into carrying her shopping upstairs etc
> 
> Next chapter we follow Hastur and his gang onto the train (I don’t think the entire line is electrified yet but if anyone knows for sure please chip in…)


	47. The Train to Oxford

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur and his little gang catch a train. There are discussions of romance and Hastur gets confused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of paired this and the next chapter together in my mind - the two parties led by Hastur and Crowley are both travelling simultaneously and both discussing their various relationships, so I thought I’d post them both together.

Hastur was right about the train (not the overhead lines bit, the ‘about to leave’ bit). They just managed to get tickets and board before it set off. Without thinking much about it he followed his usual train routine. The others followed as he went to the buffet car, ordered coffee, growled at the shop assistant in a not wholly unfriendly manner, pocketed his change, walked off down the train and then sat down.

“We need a table so we can all sit together” said Liz.

Hastur looked at her, slightly confused. “I always sit here, this is my seat. I go through four of them little doors and eight rows down and sit at the seat on the aisle on the right-hand side, then I read. It’s what I do”. He showed no sign of moving, looking at them as if, now he’d explained it, that would be an end to the matter.

He proceeded to fish a book out from his coat pocket and turned to a page marked with something that looked disturbingly like a flattened and very dead mouse.

Ligur sighed, he was used to Hastur’s way of thinking. While the humans looked confused he attempted to pry his partner’s attention away from the book. With reluctance he managed to lead him to a table seat so all four could sit together. The tall demon was evidently a little uncomfortable, but took his new seat and continued reading his book.

Amy pursed her lips “it’s very rude to just sit and read, ignoring us all like that y’know”.

He looked up and saw that the other three were all staring at him. He didn’t want to be rude really. It was just that this was he did on the train. He knew it took between 53 and 57 minutes to get to Oxford and during this time he read. It was just what he did. Now he’d established this, it felt wrong doing anything else.

This sort of behaviour wasn’t too unusual among demons. They had exceedingly strict etiquette - not only when it came to forms of address: names, titles etc - but also in their ceremonial greeting rituals, routines, designated workspaces and seating arrangements. Somewhat ironically, the former angels who rebelled against the stifling structure and rules of Heaven, had set up a much more rigid system of caste, class and custom, to which they had to adhere.

Hastur was a demon of certainties, he knew his place and his role and he never deviated from them. Well, until now. He was suddenly very uncomfortable, feeling like he’d been cast adrift in a wide ocean when he didn’t even know how to doggy paddle.

Nothing around him was familiar anymore. Sitting with humans on a (maybe electrified) train on his way to try to avert Armageddon II, while Hell’s diktats were mouldering away, forgotten in a corner of the Mayfair flat. His chest constricted a little and a wave of panic washed over him.

Ligur was already aware of his discomfort and put an arm around him. Liz, sitting opposite also saw the demon was getting jittery and put a hand on his arm and smiled reassuringly. He looked up to see Liz smiling at him and felt Ligur’s heavy grip on his shoulder. Maybe things would be ok. Then he saw Amy scowling at him and felt a little scared again, which in turn made him angry.

“Why’re you lookin’ so cross?” he demanded aggressively.

Amy didn’t like it when Hastur got angry. The memories of being smothered, and watching while he burned things, came back all too vividly. She tried to get her anger in check and force her face into a neutral expression. She saw Ligur watching her carefully and, as they made eye contact, he winked. It made her feel better. She took a deep breath and tried to divert the conversation “what are you reading anyway?”

Thus distracted Hastur explained about his book. It was a story about a female human who did some sort of administrative job in a big building. Hastur thought it sounded very interesting, but apparently it was meant to be dull and boring.

There was also a male human who was a really strict boss and everyone at the company was frightened of him (which the demon approved of). The female human did her best to hide from him so he wouldn’t shout at her (again he understood this tactic very well).

Then the female got a ‘big promotion’ to work on a new project. Unfortunately her boss was going to be the male human who everyone said was a terrible person to work for. She was very nervous about it, as she’d managed to avoid him up until now and wasn’t looking forward to working for him, but it was a promotion and that was a Good Thing.

At this stage it had become apparent that the male human had only given her the job because he liked how she looked. The female human was very annoyed about this because she thought she’d got the job because she was good at the work. However, she was determined to prove she could do the job.

As the female human was so determined to prove how good she was at the new job she kept arguing with the boss-human about work. They both seemed to be attracted to the other one and maybe wanted to kiss. However, they didn’t, because the female human kept pretending she hated him when even Hastur could tell that she liked him really.

He had reached the point in the book where the female human had accidentally bumped into a colleague in a bar after work. Hastur thought he was trying to get her drunk so he could sneakily have sex with her even though she didn’t really want to.

The boss-human was also in the bar. He was upset because he’d hoped promoting her would mean he could spend time with her. Then maybe she would start to like him instead of hiding from him. It hadn’t worked because she kept shouting at him.

This had made the boss-human sad, so he wanted to get drunk to ‘drown his sorrows’. From his experience with other books like this Hastur thought the boss-human would rescue the female human from her other work colleague and then they could be friends and kiss.

Liz rolled her eyes “why are you reading that trash?!” she exclaimed. It was exactly the sort of distorted reality that had led to her ending up in such an awful relationship for so long. The idea of needing to be ‘rescued’ and looked after by protective men, instead of being able to be independent and capable in her own right.

The demon was surprised “it’s a turbulent tale of love and desire set in the cut-throat world of corporate culture”. He looked a little wistful as he added “no-one has had their throat cut yet, but maybe that will come later”.

Amy sighed “oooh, it’s a romance, I love romantic novels”.

Liz however, scowled and said “utter sexist rubbish. I bet you she’ll ‘fall into his strong arms’ and gives up all her independence to become his personal assistant or marry him or something stupid like that”.

Hastur looked surprised “why wouldn’t she want to be his assistant? She likes him and he’s a big boss with loads of power and she is really low status so would get respect from the other humans if they see he likes her”.

“You men are all the same. Just because she’s a woman doesn’t mean she can’t be respected in her own right. She should report him to HR and go work somewhere else where they’ll appreciate her skills, rather than lusting after her body. This sort of rubbish just reinforces stereotypes, making out women are subordinate and should be grateful for the crumbs you bloody men chose to throw at us”.

She glared at Hastur and then at Ligur. Neither were, in actual fact, ‘men’ per se (although both had chosen male appearances). They held up their hands against her angry and (at least partially) unfair tirade. Hastur, however, was also curious “so you don’t think she should let him rescue her?”

“She doesn’t need rescuing - she should just leave now - or kick the creep in the bollocks. The whole situation is unrealistic, setting up the lecherous boss as some sort of knight in shining armour riding in to rescue her when he’s actually a creep too”. Liz sounded very cross.

Hastur was confused, partly about the armour thing, but mainly about the rescuing bit. The plot lines he’d followed often had the male human rescuing the female and she always seemed happy and grateful about it. Also she often did ‘fall into his strong arms’ or similar. It had always seemed that this was the aim of all this romance stuff - chase after the one you want until they give in to you, then everyone would be happy in the end. It was apparently how humans did things.

He said slowly “so you don’t think she should carry on working for him either?”

“Damn right I don’t. Why would she want to work for someone who sexually harasses her? He’s her boss, he shouldn’t promote her just cuz he fancies her and shouldn’t be stalking her round bars either. What about a bit of professionalism eh? ”

He explained that the books all told similar stories - the female human always ended up going off with the male one so she could be happy. Liz continued glaring “women don’t need a man to be happy, we can managed perfectly well on our own thank you very much!”

Amy shook her head “but it’s so romantic, he is in love so promotes her so he can be close to her, but it backfires and she spurns him. Secretly though she really likes him and he’ll save her from the creep and then they’ll end up together and ride off into the sunset and get married and live happily ever after”. She sighed at the prospect while Liz rolled her eyes.

Hastur, however, was nodding “yes, that’s it, that’s what should happen. I’ve been researching this stuff. They always go off together in the end when the female human realises she likes the male human, or the other way around. It’s just how it works”.

“Listen to me mister demon-man, if you think real romance works like the garbage they put in those books you’ve got another think coming. They’re completely unrealistic. Can you imagine me giving up my job and swooning at the sight of some bloke? I don’t need any mystery man coming over all ‘tall dark and handsome’ trying to rescue me, thank you very much!”

The demon thought about this. His confidence had been shaken somewhat. Just when he thought he’d got to grips with how humans did romantic stuff this human was telling him it was all wrong.

He didn’t really know coffee-human very well, but remembered the ‘taser’ and had to agree that she didn’t seem the sort who wanted or needed rescuing. She liked her job too and he couldn’t imagine her as someone else’s assistant. He wondered if maybe she was right.

“How would you feel if I kept pestering you until you agreed to sleep with me?” She demanded.

The demon was confused “I only tried sleep once and I didn’t like it”.

The human sighed in an exasperated way. “Not literally ‘sleep’! I mean all he really wants is to have sex with her - he doesn’t value her for her abilities or her mind - he’s just pestering her until he can get her clothes off. After that it’ll be domestic drudgery all the way - making her do the housework and look after him - would you like that?”

Hastur thought about it. He wouldn’t like it at all. He knew what it was like to be pestered to take his clothes off and have someone he didn’t like trying to have sex with him. It wasn’t very nice… and as for the rest…well!

“No I don’t like it when I get pestered… and I can’t look after things, not really, that’s why I kidnapped her” he said indicating Amy. For some reason this made Liz laugh.

“If the books are wrong then what is it like?” he asked curiously.

“You wanna know how relationships work?” it sounded like she’d taken this as a challenge. “It’s about a partnership: equality and respect y’know? You shouldn’t expect people to change or give things up because they’re in love and you absolutely shouldn’t keep pestering someone in the hope they’ll give in to you. That’s harassment at best and stalking at worst, despite what those trashy novels would lead you to believe”.

The word ‘partnership’ made sense. Ligur was his partner and what Liz had just described was pretty much how their relationship worked. He blinked a few times then nodded. “So there aren’t lots of complicated rules to learn then?” he asked.

“No, it isn’t complicated. If you like someone and they like you then that’s it really. If they don’t like you then you leave them alone”.

Hastur grinned “I like you” he said and Liz flushed “and you too” he added, resting his head on Ligur’s shoulder contentedly.

“What about me?” Amy asked, not to be left out.

The demon screwed up his face while he considered this. “It’s not that I don’t like you, you’ve been very helpful and make nice soup and Ligur likes you - I think - but I don’t like you the same as I like him and Liz….”

All this new information was clearly getting too much for Hastur and he wailed out “I don’t understand all this human stuff, I never even passed Lust, if the books are wrong how am I even meant to learn what to do?”

Amy laughed “the books aren’t all wrong… and it’s ok you don’t like me because I don’t like you”. Seeing Hastur’s hurt expression she added “that is, I don’t like you *that way* and I certainly don’t like being kidnapped, but I suppose you’re alright really”.

Liz put her hand back on his arm and said “don’t worry, you’re doing fine. Just don’t expect everything to be like it is in the books!” As she spoke the train pulled into Oxford and they remembered the reason they were on the train in the first place. They went off to find a bus.


	48. The Drive to Tadfield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally a chance for the angel and his demon to sort out their problems!

Whereas the demon/human contingent on the train had settled into quite friendly conversation the demon/angel pair were quieter. There was still the issue of Crowley working for Hell, of Aziraphale following him, of the multiple misunderstandings and arguments of late. Eventually the angel spoke:

“I think we’ve both been acting a bit strangely of late, my dear”

The car swerved alarmingly as the demon nearly lost control. He whole heartedly agreed that he had overreacted to the angel sneaking in some do-goodery, even if it had been strictly against their New Arrangement. He also thought that maybe he had been a bit short with him a few times, but his behaviour was nowhere near as dramatic as the angel’s.

“I’m wasn’t the one breaking the new arrangement, then following people around, before throwing them out and refusing to talk to them was I?” His tone was a little too sharp for his liking and he wished he could re-say that sentence a little more carefully. Why did this keep happening? He really didn’t want to argue. Was it something in his demon nature that just had to spoil things?

The angel didn’t really seem to have noticed. He started slowly, as if carefully feeling his way. “Yes, ummm, exactly. I’ve been thinking about that. The New Arrangement that is. I think it might be a bit over the top”.

“...but we agreed! Let the humans sort it out for themselves, stop interfering. It’s not fair otherwise, you said as much”.

“Ah, um, yes… but it hasn’t worked has it? You said yourself that not causing trouble was boring you, and it hurts me to see the humans suffer. I think it’s been getting to both of us…. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been, well, I’ve been a little ‘off’ with you lately and I think, I think you’ve been a bit short with me, but there’s no reason for it… no reason, unless… well unless it really is in our natures and trying to change that has been bad for both of us”.

Crowley was thoughtful. The angel might have a point. Their disagreements of late had been confusing and frustrating in equal measure. Nothing had really changed. They’d got along for thousands of years while both working for their respective employers, but now it seemed they couldn’t get along without them. “You mean go back to working for….” he didn’t want to finish the thought.

Luckily Aziraphale jumped in “oh no. No, no, I don’t mean following Heaven’s or Hell’s work schedules again. I mean, well I suppose I mean just being considerate towards people, or inconsiderate of course, but just like the people themselves are. Being more ’human’ really. No human is all good, or all bad, they follow their feelings and sometimes good or bad comes out of it. I think we should do the same. What do you think?”

Crowley was quiet for so long that Aziraphale had started to worry. He then started up slowly “be more human?”

It was too speculative to really be a question but the angel answered nonetheless “yes, just do what comes naturally. Stop trying to change and just be ourselves. Nothing ‘big’ you said, well that's alright, I can live with that... just don't start another Spanish Inquisition!”

The demon jumped in “told you that wasn’t me, just because they believed the memos, doesn’t mean it’s true. Demons lie, they lie all the time, it’s what we do! One of the things we do anyhow”.

Aziraphale chuckled, it was a sound that had been missing from Crowley’s life lately and one he’d missed. He joined in, saying after a while “why are we laughing? The world might be ending and here we are laughing!”

“What could be more human than that?” It was so palpably true that the demon had no answer. He’d observed humans for thousands of years and the one thing he knew for certain was that they had unexpected reactions. They knew how to make the best of things, they could find something funny in the worst situation, or something tragic in the best. To them the world wasn’t good and evil or black and white it was all shades of the spectrum, often at the same time.

The angel’s laughter, however, did subside. “This Hastur, he’s not…. errm, not to be trusted is he?”

“He’s changed I’ll tell you that much. I don’t know if it’s earth, or what happened with Ligur or what, but he’s not the same demon he used to be. When you… ngh… threw me out…” he continued over the other’s protests “when you threw me out he took me to the pub, we got drunk together, we *laughed* angel!”

These words didn’t quite have the impact he expected so he repeated them “we laughed. Together. Like we weren’t trying to kill each other, he wanted to make me feel better. He *did* make me feel better. He’s changed”.

“Can he be trusted though?” Aziraphale was stubborn and knew how to stick to the point. All this talk of weird monsters and tentacles and the end of the world had unnerved him. He didn’t want to believe it, yet he also did. He wanted to think that Hastur: one of the most evil demons in Hell according to Crowley, could change, could become trustworthy.

“Oh, well, demons don’t trust each other. I’d never really trust him, but I think he’s telling the truth, for what it’s worth”.

Aziraphale recognised that that would have to be enough: you can’t trust a demon - ever. That was the rule and Crowley wasn’t going to deviate from it. He trusted Crowley’s judgement on the truth of Hastur’s story though…. He trusted Crowley. If one demon could change to that extent maybe it wasn’t impossible for another to do the same. Maybe he could trust Hastur.

It was as if the demon had heard his thoughts “don’t go falling into that trap angel! We might be on the same side now, but he’s the one who got us into this mess and as soon as it’s all over I want to get as far away from him as possible. He is a Demon. Not to be trusted. He is not nice. However he might seem to have changed, don’t ever forget that. He kidnapped that human you know?”

At this point Aziraphale flushed remembering that he too had kidnapped the human in question - at least in her mind. He hadn’t meant to, but that wasn’t really an excuse. His companion obviously realised what he’d said “well, I know that apparently everyone has kidnapped that human, but Hastur started it!”

They smiled at each other and Crowley had to swerve to miss a bus that had suddenly appeared on the road in front of him going surprisingly quickly. He honked the horn and swore loudly, pressing the accelerator to the floor and easily hitting 120 miles an hour (which shouldn’t have been possible).

“It might be the end of the world but that doesn’t mean I want to get discorporated early to avoid the rush!” squeaked the angel.

Crowley took note and reduced his speed to a more sedate 90. “So, assuming we somehow manage to stop Armageddon again, this new-new arrangement, how’s it going to work exactly? You mean going back to thwarting evil wiles do you? Following me about and undoing the damage?”

He realised the unfortunate choice of words immediately and backtracked “sorry. I know your intentions were good - I mean, they’re always good right? You’re an angel, can’t have any other sort of intentions…”

Whatever he was expecting he wasn’t expecting a guffaw from his passenger. “Maybe if I spend enough time on earth - and living with you - maybe I *will* have some other intentions!”

Was that the hint of a wink? Crowley thought so. Their relationship had, as to be expected from past history, been progressing slowly. That wink however, seemed to hint to it picking up pace. “Now who’s going too fast?” he teased.

As the car skidded round the last bend into the little village, Aziraphale answered for him: “that would be you dear, you always did go too fast!”

The car pulled up and the pair of them looked at the little village in surprise. Things had changed, and not for the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right - that’s the talking bit done, back to some action in the next chapter!


	49. Finding The Antichrist Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two parties arrive in Tadfield and note the changes - but what now? And where is the Antichrist?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The action is picking up now - hope it doesn’t get too confusing - writing six characters all together was quite difficult - hopefully it works!

Aziraphale was genuinely shocked at what the little village had turned into. There were a couple of takeaways on the narrow little ‘high-street’, the bins outside filled to overflowing. Where there had been an old-fashioned, family run corner-shop there was now a petrol station with a chain convenience store attached.

Wandering through the village in a bit of a daze he saw the dumped rubbish at the edge of Hogback Wood. Parked cars half blocked the pavements and, alongside some, small heaps of broken window glass showed where a vehicle had been broken into. Crowley hastily used a hex to protect the Bentley. The churchyard revealed a few headstones had been vandalised and he noted a blackened spoon and candle stub next to a discarded hypodermic.

On top of these signs of normal human neglect and deterioration was the sign of something really dramatic. A tree branch had flown through the church window, turning the stained glass into a torn and twisted mess. Other windows were also broken and litter was blown across the streets making them a mess of damp paper, plastic bags and chicken bones.

“What happened?” The angel asked, clearly distressed.

Crowley had only taken a cursory look around. He was more concerned about ensuring his Bentley was properly protected against opportunistic car thieves. He was also conscious of an electric static of unspent energy in the air. It was clogging up his senses and making it difficult to think straight.

“What do you mean: what happened? The present day is what happened. This is exactly what you’d expect to see in any little rural outpost”. He looked around and saw what looked like the aftermath of a hurricane and amended his answer “well, it’s been a bit windy by the look of it, but apart from that, everything is pretty much normal…”

The demon couldn’t pin down the weird energy mix, but it felt like it was dissipating slightly. He looked around again and this time he was puzzled. The Antichrist had been a nice kid and had seemed to love and protect his little village. He had expected he’d lose some power after denouncing Satan as 'not his real dad', but this implied something altogether more catastrophic. What had Hastur done?

“Whatcha!” Came a familiar voice. They spun around and saw Hastur, Ligur and the two humans getting off a bus. The confused driver wasn’t entirely sure why he’d gone right off his usual route, or why he’d been speeding and hadn’t stopped to pick up passengers. Aziraphale quickly intervened to ensure his bosses at the bus company wouldn’t find out.

“Oh, it’s you” Crowley sounded very much less than pleased to see them. “What now then?”

He didn’t know. The plan, such as it was, had involved going to Tadfield. Now that they were here he wasn’t sure how to take it forward. Liz sighed, for demons they really did seem a bit clueless. She reminded them “aren’t you meant to be finding this Antichrist kid? Take him out of the equation and that’s problem over isn’t it?”

The celestial/infernal beings looked horrified. “Take him out? You mean kill him?” Hastur exclaimed, as if killing was a new concept to him. “He’s the master’s son, can’t hurt the master’s son”.

Liz shook her head, that was not what she’d meant at all. “No, I don’t mean kill him! You can’t kill little kids!”

Amy, however, was looking speculative. “What, not even if it is to stop Cthulhu?”

The ground started to shake, the light dimmed and a sudden chill descended. Crowley grabbed Amy and put a hand over her mouth. Ligur lunged forward to protect Amy and the three of them had a brief scuffle.

Unattended, Hastur sank to the ground, and yet again the terrible voice sounded. It was louder this time and more assured. “He will destroy this new Heaven and this new earth. In his house he waits, dead but dreaming. There will be no more death”.

Leaving Amy, Ligur fought through the suddenly thickened air to get to Hastur’s side and tried to pick him up and get him back on his feet. Hastur struggled and Liz joined the effort. Throwing them both off he intoned “behold he is coming”. At this he fainted again.

Ligur seemed weighed down by something and was now also fighting to stay upright. Liz was slightly less influenced and was still trying to right Hastur, hampered by Ligur attempting to use her to hold himself up.

Amy and Crowley held onto each other and that demon too seemed to be losing the battle to stay upright. He found his voice, which thankfully remained his own “angel, help!”

Aziraphale had, meanwhile, been looking around. It appeared he was less effected by the insidious influence of whatever was currently possessing Hastur and the others. He turned at Crowley’s cry and was immediately by his side, helping him sit up. His presence seemed to help and the demon regained his feet.

Amy, once freed, staggered over to Hastur, and her and Liz tried, between them, to sit him up. Ligur lay on the ground next to him. The cold darkness seemed to stick to anything it touched and it felt like they were moving through treacle.

Hastur’s eyes were wide open, but he clearly wasn’t seeing anything around him. His arms flailed out wildly, cuffing Amy painfully. The sting of the blow cut through the sticky, sucking dark and Amy pulled back a hand, slapping Hastur hard across the face. She’d wanted to do that so many times. It felt good!

His eyes were still black, but the blank stare had been replaced with one of burning resentment. He growled angrily: “oww, that bloody well hurt, what d’ya wanna go and hit me for? You’re meant to be a caring human!” 

Ligur sat up at Hastur’s side and pulled him in close “you ok now?”

Hastur just shook his head and shrugged “be a blessed sight better if humans wasn’t slapping me out the blue”.

“What’s that?” Aziraphale was pointing to what looked like the smouldering remains of a small house. As the demons looked in that direction they felt the familiar infernal energy and cringed slightly. If Satan was back none of them really wanted to be seen here.

Amy and Ligur were crouched over Hastur. Liz felt a little superfluous and so wandered over to investigate, ignoring the shouts from the collected demons. The ground was scorched around a central spot, as if there had been a lightening strike. As she reached it, she looked about and almost collapsed. The world seemed brighter, so bright it hurt her eyes, the houses and trees and figures in the distance danced and spun, like being on a merry-go-round.

Just before she collapsed altogether she felt someone pulling her out of the centre of the circle. “Rather a lot of undissipated energy about here, best stay out of it my dear” Aziraphale advised quietly.

It took a few seconds to clear the whirling colours from her mind and be sure she could stand without aid. She shook off the angel’s arm, not wanting it to look like she’d been ‘rescued’ but nonetheless grateful for his intervention. As the dizziness subsided she saw the others coming towards the garden where she stood.

“This was the centre of things” Crowley said unnecessarily “now where did that kid go?”

The ground shook again and they braced themselves for the cold, cloying darkness, but it didn’t come. Instead they were nearly blown off their feet by a howling gale. Ligur grabbed Amy, Liz grabbed Hastur, Hastur grabbed Ligur, and Aziraphale and Crowley clung together.

Having managed to stabilise themselves they looked up at the sky. The clouds swirled round in menacing shades of purple and black. A lightening bolt flashed across the horizon with an ear-splitting crash. The second flash rumbled more quietly, but didn’t die away as lightening should. Instead it twisted itself around the darkening sky forming a halo.

At the centre of the storm a darkness formed, deeper than any blackness they’d seen before… Well, deeper than any had seen before excepting Hastur. He recognised it all too well.

The blackness seemed to form some sort of thick, tar-like liquid that dripped slowly down to earth, quickly followed by the lightening. It made it down to earth at a point not too far from where they stood.

“I don’t think it’s going to be a problem finding him” Liz remarked brightly.


	50. The Centre Of Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They follow the lightening and the blackness to It’s source - which of course was going to be the airfield - the same as last time.
> 
> Not sure if I should I have been more original with the setting for the end of the world…..

The airfield was, of course, a familiar location to both Crowley and Aziraphale. As in the case of Tadfield itself, the base had changed in the last year or so. The troops were no longer stationed here for a start. Honestly they hadn’t really been sure why they had been stationed there as long as they had. At a time when virtually all other American bases had closed down, Tadfield had lingered.

Once Armageddon hadn’t happened it was like the military had woken up to the fact that they had an unnecessary and expensive base in the middle of nowhere. A few heads were scratched as they tried to remember why it had been so important for them to have a continued presence there. When no-one could think of a good reason they’d pulled the troops out.

In short the base was deserted. Cheerful little weeds poked through the concrete and rusty doors hung open revealing the dark interior of empty sheds. The windows in the checkpoint had broken and the guard’s chair sprouted a bare dandelion stalk. It felt like a film set after the cameras had been turned off. Something of an anti-climax. Or it would have been if it weren’t for the glowering skies and circling lightening overhead. 

There was no-one to stop them from walking onto the base. In fact they couldn’t see anyone at all - the Antichrist or Satan or any Heavenly representatives. They cautiously started exploring under swirling clouds, coloured black and purple like a developing bruise. The humans flinched somewhat at the occasional loud crash caused by the circling lightening grounding itself on various structures.

Ligur and Liz were holding onto Hastur by now. He seemed half asleep, not quite able to support his full weight. They glanced at each other nervously before checking his eyes, which seemed slightly glazed and even more black than usual.

Out of nowhere a breeze suddenly whipped the dead leaves around their feet and a bright flash was swiftly followed by an especially loud crack. A deeply hollow sounding voice came from all around them "behold, the day of the Lord comes, cruel with wrath and fierce anger, to make the land a desolation".

The omnidirectional nature of the sound meant it half echoed and half overlapped itself, like many voices were speaking at once. Hastur let out a loud shriek and Ligur pulled him closer, almost wresting him from Liz’s grip. Both seemed determined to keep hold of the stricken demon.

Crowley glanced back in their direction and then continued towards an empty shed, hoping to find the wayward Antichrist. He called softly “Adam… Adam are you there?” There was no answer. In fact the silence seemed to intensify like something was smothering out all normal sounds. From nowhere in particular a thin mist started to rise from the ground and the dull light seemed to dim further. Aziraphale nervously joined the demon in his search.

There was a blueish-purple edge to the light which reflected weirdly from the broken window glass and picked up the green colour of the grass and weeds, intensifying the colour unnaturally. Amy had stayed by the entrance to the base and watched the scene cautiously. With the subtly creeping change in illumination it was as if someone had put out the sun and turned on a black-light. The thought of something being able to put out the sun was unsettling.

She felt an eerie sense of being cut off from the rest of the world, as if the airbase were inside some kind of bubble. Not quite of this world, but not quite separate either. The makeshift, postwar prefab huts swam before her, their corrugated iron roofs appeared to stretch and contract rhythmically, like something alive and breathing.

The walls took on the appearance of dark blocks of stone, huge and irregular. A sheen of something murky and glistening writhed its way across their surface. The airbase looked altogether alien now, a twisted mess of mist shrouded buildings. Clinging to every surface were wet tendrils of some greenish-blackish thing. The atmosphere was impregnated with an unpleasant sweet-sharp smell and the thickening air was becoming hard to breath.

As Amy watched she caught the edge of a movement just behind one of the deserted sheds. “There, there’s something there” she cried faintly, pointing toward the movement.

The angel appeared from inside one of the dark huts and followed her pointing finger with his eyes. There was nothing there now. However, the nothing felt menacing, challenging almost, like it was daring someone to approach. The shadow cast by the hut felt wrong and he realised it was in the opposite direction to the other shadows and somehow deeper and darker. “Crowley my dear, can you come outside now?” He asked, realising he was alone. There was no answer.

From where Hastur was slumped came the sound of the voice again "the former things that are not remembered will return. In his house he waits, dead but dreaming. There will be no more death, there will be no more sea. Behold he is coming”. It wasn’t Hastur that had spoken this time, but Ligur. He had dropped his partner’s arm and stood awkwardly, his stance slightly angled in a way that felt unnatural.

“In his house he waits, dead but dreaming. There will be no more death. Where is my brother? Where is Hasssstur?” Although the sound came from Ligur it was not his voice. The mist had risen to just above knee height and with it a clammy, damp chill wrapped itself around their legs making movement difficult.

Amy screamed as a small figure flew towards her from the side of the hut where the deep darkness had settled. The figure didn’t reach her, stopping in the open space between the huts where Aziraphale and Crowley had been searching moments earlier. The impossible dark light and rising mist hid the figure from view and she couldn’t make out its shape. A thick static of cold energy was flowing gently outwards from it.

“Crowley dear, where are you?” The angel was starting to panic. He glanced indecisively from the figure to the last hut the two of them had entered. He didn’t want to leave the others, but was really starting to worry about his demon. There was also something compelling about the figure before him. It demanded his attention and he was finding it difficult to do anything other than stare in its direction.

The mist was now over waist high and had started its own whirlpool, mirroring the clouds above them. The dark shrouded figure was at its centre. The energy it was giving out now appeared more purposeful, carefully probing tentacles of pure black spread from the centre. It was feeling for something, or someone.

From inside the hut came a piercing scream and Aziraphale pulled his attention away from the figure to bolt back inside. “Crowley!” he yelled, then the sticky, dark silence descended and an ominous quiet prevailed.

Amy screamed again as one of the dark tendrils touched her leg, but she was unable to move away. From somewhere under the mist came a hollow voice “I am Hastur, I am here”. The demon rose to a standing position, only his head and shoulders could be seen above the mist.

From the central figure came the now all to familiar words: "the first Heaven and the first earth have passed away. He will destroy this new Heaven and this new earth. The former things that are not remembered will return. In his house he waits, dead but dreaming. There will be no more death, there will be no more sea. Behold he is coming”.

A flash of lightening crashed from the sky to form a circle around the figure’s feet and for the first time he was fully visible. To Amy’s surprise it wasn’t a nameless horror from another dimension but a small boy with grubby streaks of tears tracking lines down his pale face. His eyes were black with a slight hint of a red halo around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Antichrist is revealed - will he be able to start Armageddon II? Find out next chapter….
> 
> (trying to build tension!!)
> 
> Note on location: I wanted to put the British Museum in somewhere, as that’s one of my favourite places and I could just imagine the demons wandering round criticising errors in the human understanding of artefacts and archaeology. Unfortunately, with lockdown, I haven’t had a chance to visit, which meant I haven't done my desired research. So I ended up missing those half-imagined scenes out altogether. TBH Using the museum at this point would have involved some sort of Cthulhu statue/inscriptions, and I’ve have had to think of a reason for them going there, and then put in complicated portals to Tadfield somehow too, so the airbase was simpler all round…if unoriginal


	51. Armageddon II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam attempts to re-run the traditional Armageddon - without Satan, Heaven or the horsemen - is the Antichrist powerful enough to do that?

Adam blinked at the scene before him. He reached out a hand to the demon he recognised as Hastur, the Duke who had told him of his true identity. “Join me brother. Together we will end this new Heaven and this new earth”.

Although the words were not entirely his own he believed them. He and Hastur needed to be together in this endeavour. The new world had to end. He had to put things back to how they had been before, restore the old world. For some reason the Duke carried some ability, some power, that would facilitate this. He needed him to agree to help.

“You’re only a child!” shouted a human voice from somewhere under the mist. Liz had been shaken off when Hastur got up and now stood herself. She looked at the boy before her and creased her brow, “you’re a kid and you want to end the world? Why? You haven’t even grown up properly yet”.

Adam felt a flush of all too human anger. “I’m not a bloody kid! Stop treating me like a child, I’m nearly 13! I’m a grown-up”. With the mundane words the darkness seemed to retreat a little and the mist settled back down to a level somewhere between knee and waist height. Seemingly his very human anger had overridden the cold otherness of the probing darkness.

He continued raging at the person who’d called him a kid. “I’m the Antichrist too. He said so” at this he jabbed a finger towards the tall demon. “He said it. He said we would re-run Armageddon and make it all alright again. Get rid of this horrible mess and start over. He told me”. Adam ran out of steam a little when he saw the blank stare of the demon. Hastur hadn’t reacted to his words and the would-be destroyer of the world was uncertain how to continue.

He looked around him. Liz was staring at him sceptically and he thought she didn’t believe he was either a proper grown-up or the Antichrist. He looked away from her and saw another woman. She smiled carefully at him, saying “it’s ok dear, I believe you, you are the Antichrist, but surely you don’t want to hurt people? What about your parents? You don’t want them to be killed do you?”

Adam snarled at her “they’re not my parents. Even Satan disowned me, no-one understands, no-one cares about me!” the last words were spat towards the woman with some venom. His attention was then grabbed by two figures coming out of the darkness of one of the huts. They seemed very vaguely familiar, Adam frowned, where did he recognise these two from?

The dark clad figure was supported by his companion in white, who looked at him strangely. The one in white spoke carefully, as if he was afraid. That was a good sign, he was a grown-up Antichrist and people should be afraid of him. “Steady now Adam, we’ve been here before, remember? Try to remember the last time, what happened, what you decided…”

Adam did dimly remember. He knew this place, knew that it was important. He also knew the two in front of him. He tried hard to focus. Crowley. The skinny one was called Crowley and he was a demon, but not like the other demons. He hadn’t wanted Armageddon, him and the other man in the white suit. Together they had tried to stop him from ending the world. In the end he knew it had been his choice, but they had been there, encouraging him.

Aziraphale was concentrating on the boy in front of him. Trying his hardest to get him to remember, to understand what had happened and why it was the right thing. He willed him to go back to the Adam he’d met at the airfield. The little boy who’d saved everything, who’d been so grown-up, so wise beyond his years.

Unfortunately, teenagers (even only near-teenagers) often aren’t as wise as children. In fact adults are rarely as wise as some children, but that’s not relevant. What is relevant is the near-teenage Antichrist was getting his memories back. There had been four figures, four persons - not human but human shaped - they were key to this whole thing. What was it that Satan had said? Something about the horsemen. Yes - the four horsemen of the apocalypse, he remembered them from a film.

He looked around him, letting the memories flood back in. This time, this time there would be no mistake. He wasn’t going back to being plain old Adam Young. He wanted his village back, his friends back. He wanted that sense of carefree happiness he now remembered all too clearly. It was the failure of Armageddon that had ended that. He hadn’t ended the whole world, but he had ended his world. He’d made the wrong decision, well that wasn’t going to happen again.

He screamed up at the sky, trying to call forth the horsemen - he remembered War and Famine and was the other Pollution or Pestilence? He wasn’t sure. There was a fourth too, a dark figure who had stood back and watched while the others had been defeated.

As he remembered he felt his powers returning, he knew he could do this, it was his destiny. He might be a little late, but that shouldn’t matter. In Adam’s world he was often late: late for school, late to bed, late for dinner - it had never stopped these things from happening though. Being late for Armageddon shouldn’t matter, he should still be able to make it happen.

He looked around, but couldn’t see anything to summon. The horse-persons were only given reality by belief backed with raw power. The anthropomorphic, human shaped beings of his memory wouldn’t come into focus without a Hell of a lot of energy - literally Hellish energy. The time wasn’t right, Hell hadn’t built up enough static to discharge into the world and Heaven hadn’t ‘blessed’ their endeavour. They wouldn’t appear.

It was then that Adam remembered the other demons and had an idea. The one with red hair could be War. War had been a redhead too he recalled. He could sense hunger from the dark figure with his sharp elongated fangs (Ligur hadn’t had anything to eat for what felt like ages and even under the sinister influence of the others-outside-space he could hear his stomach rumble). Well, his hunger echoed famine, let him be famine.

Then came either Pollution or Pestilence, something corrupted, a tainted, tarnished being, sick and contagious. What was more appropriate than the thin Duke with his dirt streaked face and blacker than black eyes. The brother of the other creature from outside the universe, the vessel through which it hoped to spread its sticky dark infection into this world.

Adam pointed at each in turn, naming them. The familiar items were torn from the ether, threads of power weaving together to form solid shapes. Ligur felt his stiff arm pulled forwards to grab at a half-translucent set of scales before him. Hastur acquired a crown, half of pure white, but dripping down from its sharp tines was a tar-like black liquid. In the half collapsed Crowley’s hand appeared a sword, which sprung into flame.

Aziraphale dropped him in surprise “oh my dear, you’ve found it, you’ve…. what’s going on?” This last comment was addressed to the boy that had been Adam. He looked less like Adam now and more like an entity fitting of his official titles: The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness.

“I will tear it all down, start again, it will be better this time, better than anyone could imagine”. these words were spoken in a human voice, but not a child’s voice (well a nearly teenage voice at least). “Death, I’m missing death” muttered the child. Who could he pick on to be the angel of death. There was only one angel present - he would have to do.

He sensed the other’s innate goodness, his desire to help and heal rather than end life. Unlike the demons - already half committed to being the embodiment of various evils, this one would take some persuasion to take on his assigned mantle. He concentrated and projected as much energy as he could muster in his direction.

Aziraphale felt a blast of power from the child, it hit him squarely in the midriff and he flew backwards. As he looked up he saw a confusing mess of images. He was surrounded by people, in a room bigger than could ever have existed on earth. It smelled horribly of decay and rot. The figures he saw were all mutilated and in pain.

They reached out to him, hands that were burned or twisted, mouths covered in sores, blood and dirt smeared on their contorted faces, eyes blind with cataracts or staring, half mad with fear and agony. All were suffering so much, all begging for release. All calling for Death to take away this defiled and foul existence, to end it once and for all in calm quiet oblivion.

The angel wavered. He could help these people. He could save them. This was no life they had now, not a life worth living. It would be a merciful act, freeing these people so they could no longer feel pain. Make things right again, take the suffering away. All he had to do was reach out, touch the nearest. One touch and he would become Death. Death the merciful. Death the compassionate. The humans were wailing, crying and begging him to release them.

“No!” he cried, clutching his chest, hugging his treacherous arms around his body, tucking his hands under his armpits, not quite trusting his resolve. He couldn’t do this. It was Her job to decide, Her prerogative. He remembered Job, how he, Aziraphale, had stood by through his horrendous suffering. He remembered the flood, the children and innocent all killed while he watched with tears in his eyes. He had to trust the plan, the ineffable plan. He could not take matters into his own hands.

“No!” he cried again, this time falling to his knees with tears running down his face. This is not how the world would end. He would not allow it, even if all of humanity were suffering before him it was not his place to interfere. He closed his eyes as the tears continued to fall. Inside his head he repeated to himself the plan was ineffable, but there was a plan, he must trust Her.

Adam screamed in thwarted anger. Why wouldn’t the angel take his role? It wasn’t fair. There had to be more he could throw at this, more power, more energy….

…..and then there was. What followed the silence after his screams was not a human voice “join me brother. Together we will bring back the formless darkness. There will be no more death…..”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well done Aziraphale for standing firm…. unfortunately the thwarting of a traditional Armageddon has only paved the way for a new, nastier form of world-ending to begin…. Can they stop this too?


	52. In His House He Waits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hastur talks to his brother who tries to persuade him to let him back into this reality - Can he be stopped?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finale! Will they save the world...again....

The demons and angel fell to the ground, no longer under the influence of either the Antichrist or the other thing they didn’t want to name. Hastur was the first to recover, rising above the mist and gaining his feet to look at the small child before him.

“Is that you brother?” he asked. His voice was both entirely his own and utterly different. It was a hollow dead voice with the dull edge of an echo that rattled round the sheds of the airfield and returned to him in a distorted mix of syllables. The one word that remained clear in the confused tangle of deadened sound was ‘brother’. This repeated itself round and round, the word amplified as it echoed.

Adams mouth opened, but the words did not form in his mouth. Instead they were pulled out from somewhere else and forced through him like slurry through a pipe. “Together we will destroy this new Heaven and new earth… join me brother”. From the child’s mouth a vile black semi-liquid poured, staining his chin and chest as it dripped, horribly slowly, downwards and outwards to cover the small figure. Gravity appeared irrelevant to the darkness as it began flowing upward to completely encase him.

Amy screamed again, but the sound didn’t carry this time. Her mouth was wide open as she tried to make herself heard. The waves of muted vibrations travelled slowly out from her and, as they reached the ears of each onlooker, the bubble burst and the full volume of the scream was clearly heard.

The brief distraction seemed to effect Hastur more than the others and he turned to face the human and frowned in half-recognition. His attention wasn’t kept for long and he was soon back looking at the Adam shaped being in the centre of a whirlpool of mist and lowering cloud.

“Brother?” He asked the shape again.

It reached its hands out towards the demon who took a faltering step in its direction. The mist and cloud were now nearly met. There was only a thin sliver of normality between the purple, black of the clouds and the greyish cold of the mist. Amy’s screams stopped abruptly as the black shape in the centre began to rise, but it was at Hastur that they were all compelled to look.

His formerly thin figure was pulsing and stretching. Limbs that should not exist broke through his form and reached blindly outwards. At the tip of each protrusion was a barbed hook. His body was now just a mass of squirming, writhing cords, like a ball of giant maggots. At its centre two black eyes stared blindly outwards and a mouth ghastly with hanging tendrils of slime worked itself open.

The words came in a low gurgle “in his house he waits - dead but dreaming. There will be no more death”.

The mess of tentacles began to rise and reach out to the centre of the swirl of clouds. Adam was also rising, but faster. He hit the eye of the storm first and reached his small arms upwards towards the black hole above him. From the hole came something dark and sticky. It poured downwards over and through the child, then veered off towards the thing that had been Hastur.

“Join me brother, we shall make this land a desolation. I am no longer dead, no longer dreaming. Call me from the formless darkness, there will be no more death”.

Aziraphale grabbed the sword from Crowley’s hand and ran forward to the Hastur-thing, the blade springing back into bright flame as he went. He slashed the thick cold air in front of him carving a path, intent on destroying the being in front of him. This was not part of Her plan, this could not happen.

He had forgotten about the humans. As he got near enough to swing the blade into one of the wriggling tentacles he saw an arm raised. He just about managed to stop in time. Before him, and between him and the monster he sought to destroy, stood Liz. “Young lady you need to move right now!” He said in as stern a voice as he could muster.

“No. You can’t kill him” She put a hand on his arm to stop him from striking.

From somewhere behind him he heard Ligur shouting for Hastur. The tentacled monster stopped and it’s hideous eyes swivelled towards the demon. It seemed to waiver. The shape shrunk a little and the eyes blinked “Ligur?” it asked in a confused daze.

The horrid gurgling voice came from inside the darkness. “Open the rip brother, let me in. Together we will make the land a desolation”.

Hastur’s attention was again turned to the black circle before him. Tentacles emerged from the confused mess of pulsing flesh and reached out towards the circle. Aziraphale only took a few seconds to wrestle with his conscience before he made the decision. Saving the entire world was more important than not hurting one human. He threw off Liz with a blast of holy energy and she flew backwards.

“Hastur” screamed Ligur again, Crowley was holding him back so he couldn’t get close enough to touch his partner. The anguish in his eyes was plain to see by the deep red colour and dripping tears as he desperately tried to fight his way out of the other demon’s grip. This time the Hastur-monster didn’t even pause. 

Ligur’s near-death and only partially completed recovery must have left him weak as he couldn’t escape and looked on helplessly as the flaming sword was drawn back for another strike. The angel was determined. He had to end this. His arm swung round in an arc, aimed squarely at the eyes in the centre of the mass. Just before he struck he felt something cannon into in back with considerable force.

“No you don’t!” yelled another human voice. It was Amy. She was still annoyed at the angel for his kidnapping exploits so this leant extra strength to her attack. “Look, look at Ligur, you can’t hurt Hastur, you just can’t. What about Ligur? What would he do without him?”

There was real compassion in her plea - she had seen the two together, felt their bond, their love, and she had no intention of letting the impolite and irritating angel destroy it. Liz too was determined to save Hastur and Aziraphale found himself attacked on two sides. He couldn’t hurt the humans, but couldn’t’ free himself without hurting them. He looked to Crowley for guidance but all his energy was taken up holding onto the angry Ligur. He fell back, defeated.

Amy and Liz looked at each other. Neither was sure what to do, but both of them wanted to help Hastur. They grabbed at the hideous figure and caught hold of a tentacle each. “Hastur” they yelled in chorus. The creature stopped and turned to them. There was confusion in its blank black eyes.

Amy stared earnestly at it “Ligur, you remember Ligur don’t you? Your partner, you can’t hurt him, you don’t want to destroy Ligur do you?” She waved an arm backwards towards the trapped demon.

Hastur shrunk down slightly, starting to look more like his old self. Liz pulled him downwards, away from the dark gap in the sky. “What about coffee eh? You like coffee, and cocktails, and you said we could dance, you said…” Amy was still shouting about Ligur as Liz talked of cocktails and dancing and laughing together in a basement bar in Soho.

Aziraphale hesitated as the monster started to resemble the demon again. He was struck by the mundane normality of the humans’ reasons for not destroying the earth. Amy mentioned soup and coloured fairy lights, Liz talked about vodka shots and roasted garlic, both mentioned Ligur and television. At one point Liz said he couldn’t end the world until he'd watched the Great British Bake Off final, which seemed to have a notable effect on the demon.

At some point Crowley had lost his fight with Ligur who flew to Hastur’s side. Somehow the three of them managed to wrap Hastur’s half tentacles-half arms around them all and continued talking to him, as he slowly started to resemble nothing more than a confused scarecrow in a tattered suit. As the weird conversation moved on to haystacks and sunsets and ‘happily ever afters’ there was nothing left of the abomination, only Hastur remained.

He was again conscious of those around him. He patted Liz on the arm, apparently confused by her distress. He grabbed Ligur to him, pulling him into a fierce hug. As he pulled up he looked at Amy and gave a crooked smile "cooking-human!" He then looked back at Liz and smiled "and coffee-human". Ligur grabbed him back into the hug as he said in a confused half-whisper "and my Ligur. You all like me...no-one ever....before....never liked me..." the words were cut off as he started crying.

Then their attention was again commanded by the dripping blackness of the sky as a voice screeched in a pitch designed to break windows “the Lord comes, cruel with wrath and fierce anger, to make the land a desolation. From ancient days I am he. Fear me for I am the first and the last. I died but behold I am alive… brother you must release me!”

Hastur was looking much his normal self by this point and stared about him in something of a daze. The pause was frightening, a thick layer of darkness pooled around their feet and legs, as it continued dripping down from the former Antichrist’s little body. The air was alive with static and lightening discharged itself silently against the huts around them. The demon’s eyes were still black and, at the creature’s words, they began to deepen once more.

“Oi! Stop it you!” said Amy as she slapped the demon square on the cheek.

“What d’ya mean by hittin’ me? I haven’t even done nuffin!” came Hastur’s familiar whine as his eyes regained their natural blackness.

“Brother, finish what you started! You must release me! Open the rip….” There was an unbecoming note of desperation in the dreadful voice now. It sounded less frightening and more frightened.

“Nah, I dunt wanna do that. How’s I gonna learn about humans if I destroy them all eh?” Hastur rubbed his cheek where Amy had hit him, then put his arm around her. He continued “I gotta figure out why this one keeps hittin’ me for a start!”

“I will do it without you then!” Screamed the voice from the void, sounding a little like it was having a temper tantrum.

Ligur spoke “seal the rip Hastur. Like when you was an angel. Put the darkness back where it belongs. You can repair the skies can’t you, you done it before, up in Heaven remember?”

The tall demon looked surprised “when I was an angel? Is that what I did then? I always wondered”. He sounded satisfied, but squinted up at the gap a little uncertainly. All the assembled entities held their collective breath (even if they didn’t need to breathe), hoping that demon-Hastur would remember what he did as an angel.

Something weird happened. It’s hard to describe as it involves dimensions and shapes and sizes that can’t be comprehended by human minds. Being honest even demon and angel minds are a little too small to contain all that knowledge in the ordinary course of events. However, Hastur wasn’t really very ordinary, and he remembered.

The rip was sealed and the world returned to its somewhat prosaic self. Adam had fallen to the ground and was caught by Aziraphale just in time. Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Hastur does the right thing and for the right reasons - more about reasons next chapter when we enjoy a bit of 'the world didn't end' calm and relaxation


	53. It’s Not the End of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world is saved - now what? Will Adam be ok and how will all the entities deal with going back to ‘normal’?

The skies had returned to normal English weather: grey and overcast with the hint of drizzle. No purple and black cloud swirling around a hole in space. The huts had gone back to their prefab banality and the mist that had covered the ground to waist height in a cold, cloying blanket was beginning to thin. The air had a more wholesome smell and a slight breeze came from outside the airbase, dispelling the fuzzy static of unspent energy. The world was almost back to normal.

“Was the world really saved because a demon didn’t want to miss the final of the Great British Bake Off?” a slightly dazed Aziraphale asked.

“Umm, yeah, I guess so. It is kind of exciting I suppose” Liz answered uncertainly.

They both looked at Hastur who just shrugged. Amy, freed herself from Hastur’s grip and pointed at both Hastur and Ligur: “it was love that did it! They’re in love and that love saved the whole world, oooh it’s sooo romantic!”

Both demons flushed in embarrassment: “s’not that, I dunt do that” Hastur said as Ligur shouted over him “tisn’t the L-word, demons don’t have that”.

Crowley sniggered until Amy said “and you too - you and that bloody angel - dunno what you see in him, but you’re in love too”. He flushed and Aziraphale murmured “I don’t know if that’s quite true, or is it dear?” looking hopefully at Crowley who really wasn’t sure what to say “…ngk….” was all he could manage.

There was a yell from Aziraphale as the figure in his arms fought to be free. “It’s not fair!” Adam screamed at them now free of the black ooze and looking like nothing more than a grubby little boy.

He looked at the two groups, Aziaphale and Crowley, now holding hands, and the little grouping of Hastur, Ligur, Amy and Liz looking a bit confused. He shouted again “it’s not fair! The earth is meant to be destroyed. I’m the Antichrist. I’m meant to destroy it. It’s my destiny. It should be all gone now so I can build a new world. A fair one where I don’t have to go to bed at 9 and can have my friends back and don’t have to go to school…. It’s not fair!”

Crowley laughed, which only made the little Antichrist more angry. He was too angry to articulate himself at this point so just screamed, stamping his foot in frustration.

The angel/demon couple turned to go, heading off towards where the Bentley had been parked. Ligur guided Hastur round and started off in the wake of the other two. Liz and Amy following behind.

Adam tried one last time “no, I won’t let you, you can’t go. You need to be the horsemen so I can end the world. You’ve got to do it. I command you! It’s the plan. He said it - Hastur said it - he said I could rule the world, it would all end and there would be a new earth and we would have fun. I want to have fun again - it’s not fair!” The last words were a a defeated howl of anguish.

Hastur stopped mid step. He felt that weird sensation that he’d been getting a lot of lately. The annoying thing that made him feel sad when others around him were upset or miserable. It was getting more frequent and he wondered if it was a sign of some sort of illness. Whether or not it was because he was sick he couldn’t just walk away from what he could only surmise was now the Ex-Ex-Ex-Antichrist… which was a bit of a mouthful.

“I reckon…” he started, rubbing his nose in concentration. “I reckon you don’t have to destroy the world to have fun y’know. I reckon there’s loads of fun stuff in the world like it is now, you just gotta find it”. He looked surprised at this speech, as if it wasn’t quite his own, but not in a bad way.

Adam just stared at him open mouthed, the high, red flush on his cheeks receding somewhat. The ground by his feet was free of mist by virtue of the fact that a small fiery circlet of bright orange flames was now dancing merrily around him. So, clearly he wasn’t that ‘Ex’ when it came to being the Antichrist.

The two humans watched warily. “Sorry I didn’t believe you” Liz offered “but you really shouldn’t destroy the world you know”.

Adam glared at her “what would you know? You’re just a human, not like them” he pointed at Hastur and Ligur.

“She’s a good human though, she makes nice coffee, quadruple espresso with loads of sugar and I really like it” the tall demon informed him with a grin.

“Not allowed proper coffee am I? Mum says it’s bad for me, and expensive, an’ I can only have instant”. The statement was made in a petulant half-sulky tone which seemed much more typical of a near-teenager.

Hastur looked horrified at the thought of instant coffee “you come wiv me an’ we’ll get you some proper coffee - Liz will make you some won’t you?”

She was less sure “but if his mum doesn’t want him to…..”

Adam’s fierce glare and the flare of Hell-fire at his fingertips made her stop uncertainly.

“Oi! No burnin’ of people, ok?” Hastur’s tone was sharp and they all looked at him surprised.

“You’re a fine one to talk! You burned all those little animals you bought me as food, burned them all into ashes - bloody demon” Amy said accusingly.

The tall demon was wary, having been slapped by this particular human a few times. He stepped well out of range before laughing at the memory and saying “you was proper scared weren’t you? That was funny”.

Ligur growled “don’t you scare Amy no more, she made me better an’ you oughtta be grateful!”

“Tell you what, we’ll go an’ see ‘is mum and I’m sure she’ll agree we can take him for proper coffee - I bet she will, I bet she’ll even *like* me”.

The other’s looked sceptical at Hastur’s confidence. Surprisingly - or not surprisingly if you think about it - Adam’s mum seemed to take an instant, some would say miraculous, shine to Hastur and his friends. She appeared to have no qualms at all about Hastur taking Adam out for coffee either.

Thus Adam acquired an uncle - well two if you count Ligur, which they certainly did - and an aunt who made exceedingly tasty coffee. On top of that there was the aunt who seemed to scare uncle Hastur every time she showed any sign of getting irritated - which happened a fair bit with Hastur around.

Over coffee they discussed the second non-Armageddon and Adam demonstrated he still had some Antichrist powers by again summoning fire and nearly burning down the shop.

“You need some lessons” the tall demon said in a speculative voice.

Adam looked at him wonderingly “you’re gonna teach me to be a demon?! That’s wicked!”

“Yes. Wicked is exactly what being a demon is all about” confirmed a confused Hastur. 

“You mean you’re gonna teach me to be evil an’ I can make the mouldy old headteacher grow a cow’s tail and bark like a dog in assembly?” There was indeed a wicked gleam in the near-teenager’s eye. “Then we can burn the school down and kill everyone what’s ever been mean to me?” A spark of red lit up Adam's eyes.

Hastur looked doubtful “you don’t have to kill people an’ destroy the world to be evil y’know?”

The Antichrist looked disappointed “what if you teach me just to kill them a little bit?” he asked hopefully.

Again the tall demon wasn’t sure about this “I can teach you to be evil but not if you’re going to kill people. I like people now and I don’t want them all killed. You can make the headteacher bark like a dog though…” He wasn’t sure what a ‘headteacher’ was but couldn’t see any harm in making one bark.

Hastur then went on to outline a plan - which involved a little less evilness and a lot more fun than anyone who’d known him pre-Armageddons would have given him credit for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww - Hastur is going to be a teacher - and Amy has embarrassed them by pointing out they’re in love. Definitely not demonic!
> 
> Once last Chapter to round things off, because I do like a happy ending :)


	54. Bookshops, Aquariums and Double Dates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy, happy endings and a little musing on what exactly the relationship is between Hastur and Ligur and the humans…

Aziraphale was fretting. The demon was going to make them late. As per usual. He hadn’t even got out of the shower at the point in time when Aziraphale had actually wanted to leave. He shouted up the stairs in a nervous way, chiding him for spending too long getting ready. “I know pride is a sin and so you have an obligation in that direction, but pride in your appearance can be taken too far you know”.

“Relax angel, I’m always late - Hastur knows that - and I’m not going to start being on time now am I? Not when that stinky demon has finally decided to behave himself”. Shouted Crowley from upstairs.

“It’s rude being late - what about the humans? They’ll be there too and that Liz doesn’t like you already, we really ought to try to make a good impression this time”.

“Ha! You’re just saying that cuz Amy doesn’t like you and you want to get in her good books! You can’t cope with the idea of a human that doesn’t like angels can you?” He was teasing and meant it in jest, but when the other went quiet he felt bad.

He bounded down the stairs, looking no different from how he normally did… A look which normally took at least two hours to achieve, although he’d never admit he took that long getting ready. He preferred to shrug off compliments “this old thing, nah, I’ve had it for ages… my hair just falls like this on its own… I’ve never really had a skincare routine….”. It made the humans envious and that was a sin, so to be encouraged.

Sneaking up on his partner he put an arm around him “hey angel, don’t worry, it’s only the kidnapping thing that's bugging her. She’ll get over it. She seems to like Ligur now, and he kidnapped her”.

Aziraphale jumped about a foot in the air at the demon’s unexpected appearance. “Really my dear!” He turned to face him just as the other leaned in and they found themselves face to face, noses almost touching.

The angel felt a frisson of energy grounding itself through his body. It wasn’t angelic energy, yet it wasn’t demonic either. This was all too human in origin. Crowley hadn’t put his glasses on after his shower and his golden slitted eyes gazed into the angel's blue ones. He realised neither had moved, nor taken a breath, for what felt like hours.

Then it happened. Crowley moved forwards just as Aziraphale did the same and their lips met. A faint static sparked between them and the angel let out a soft moan as their tongues touched.

The angel tasted of powdered sugar and cinnamon and Crowley was greedy for more. He pulled Aziraphale into him, holding him close as the intensity of the kiss peaked.

They stayed together, revelling in the kiss, for several minutes, neither wanting to be the first to break away. Eventually Aziraphale was the one who pulled himself back. “We really will be late my dear”. he reminded the other softly, but without a hint of impatience in his tone.

Crowley sighed and agreed that he was right. “Where are we meeting them again?” he asked. The venue was a little cocktail bar, down a side street, with a door you had to knock at. They had to tell the doorman they were guests of a member - Mr LaVista to be precise - and he would show them through to a private room. It sounded very impressive.

“Ummm, are they, are they a couple now? I mean, are they *all* a couple?” The question from the angel was confused and Crowley stared at him. He carried on “well I assume Hastur and Ligur, I mean, Amy said as much, and really from what you’ve told me they’ve practically been, ah hum, well, partners forever”.

Crowley nodded “oh yeah, I reckon they’re totally a couple - even caught Hastur checking out wedding dresses” cackled the demon.

“Yes dear, but um, the others. The humans. How do they fit in?”

This was a tricky question. Crowley knew Liz liked Hastur, and vice versa for that much, but he wasn’t too sure about the others. Ligur liked Amy, but he wasn’t sure exactly what their relationship was. Amy seemed to be enamoured of the romance between Hastur and Ligur more than being enamoured of Ligur himself. Yet, the way she’d clung to him, and more tellingly the way Ligur had clung back, made him wonder.

Then there was Liz and Ligur - they got on, but he wasn’t sure how well. Certainly Hastur wanted them to get on and kept pushing them into conversation together, but he didn’t know if his machinations were working.

Amy was still very wary of Hastur and his propensity for fire creation, and Hastur still ducked from time to time when he felt Amy might slap him, so there certainly wasn’t anything between those two.... probably anyway. Amy and Liz together just seemed to bicker - Liz didn’t approve of the somewhat soppy romantic outlook of Amy, whereas Amy thought Liz was crazy for wanting to kiss Hastur and not going gooey over the Hastur/Ligur romance as she did.

It was an entirely confusing situation and not one he felt they’d ever get to the bottom of. “Let’s just leave them to work it out between themselves angel”.

Aziraphale persisted “it’s all very well to say that, but last time Hastur spent half the night playing footsie with one or the other of them and when Amy kicked him he sent my drink flying. I just need to know when to jump out of the way!”

The demon laughed at the memory - double dates, or triple/quadruple dates with human, angel and demon participants were never going to be simple. He shepherded the angel outside and down the road to the club.

…...

Having dropped Adam off at his house Hastur and Ligur headed off to the station - they’d given up on buses and used the more traditional ‘miracling themselves between points A and Z’ mode of transport. They still got the train though.

After Liz’s stern lecture about the sexism of romance novels Hastur had stopped reading them. However, he and Ligur had begun to plot their own. Given both demons’ lack of imagination it couldn’t really be called fiction, but that made it even better in their opinion. They were both fairly sure it would eventually end in a haystack or a potting shed and certainly a ‘happily ever after’.

Back in London Hastur started walking back to his and Ligur’s flat (Crowley having finally and huffily given up any claim to ownership). “I wanna take you somewhere first” Ligur interjected in a half-embarrassed voice. Under the tall demon’s scrutiny he continued. “I dunno how much you remember of bein’ an angel…?” 

Hastur was shaking his head “not much”.

“Well, it’ll take a bit of explaining”.

Ligur did explain, and then they went to the Sea Life Centre. This was a trip just for Hastur and Ligur, the humans they would meet later. For now, the demon couple were alone together (very alone given the sudden unexpected cancellation of all other tickets to the Sea Life Centre that afternoon).

Ligur was nervous. He’d thought a lot about it. He remembered so much of being an angel, of Hastur being an angel. He knew how angel-Hastur had reacted to the sea-creatures he’d made, he just wasn’t sure about demon-Hastur. However, he was fed up of being the only demon who really remembered and not being able to talk about it. He wanted to share his memories with someone and Hastur was the someone he wanted to share them with (share everything with, in fact).

The shorter demon smiled happily as he watched his companion marvelling at the colourful fish, flashing fins and tails as they swam around him. They walked through a glass tunnel under the water and saw sharks and rays and turtles. Ligur pointed out the fish he remembered from Heaven - the bright orange/black/white striped clownfish, the yellow and blue angelfish (they laughed at the name).

Hastur watched them wide-eyed. He loved their delicate little fins, the bright colours, the weird shapes and the way they darted in and out of the colourful anemone fronds. He held Ligur’s hand and marvelled at what his companion had made, what he’d done as an angel. As far as he could tell all he personally had done as an angel was fill the space between the stars with nasty sticky black stuff and make sure the space-time fabric didn’t rip as he did so.

Ligur tried to cheer him up - told him that without the blackness behind the stars no-one would see them shine. How it was his work that made the sky worth looking at. That without the contrast, without the darkness, there could be no light. Hastur was what made the universe beautiful. Hastur sniffed and looked embarrassed, this was getting too close to that L-word thing Amy had accused them of.

When they reached a small, apparently empty tank, Ligur stopped. “This is it. What I told you about. The thing I made just for you, back when we was angels" he said nervously. His companion looked confused. There was nothing to see. He leaned in close and put his hand against the glass. As soon as he touched it tentacles flew out from an undifferentiated terracotta pot that appeared too small to have contained the creature that now emerged.

Hastur shrieked and flew backwards, pulling his fellow demon in front of him. He knew what tentacles meant and had no intention of meeting his brother again. From his safe position behind Ligur he peered round at the tank. What he saw was both unexpected and remarkable.

Two large eyes observed him from a bulbous head. Around the head a splay of suckered tentacles flared out. The creature was bright red, but as it saw Hastur peering round at it, it flashed through a muddy brown, then orange and white before settling on a dark, almost black colour. Hastur cautiously approached the tank.

The creature flashed its colour, strobing through orange and blue and red. The demon put a hand up against the glass and a tentacle was immediately flung up against the place where he’d put his hand. He could see the suckers from between his fingers, the creature was still flashing colour, but the part against the glass where Hastur’s hand rested was pure black.

Taking a sneaky glance at his partner, to make sure he was watching, Hastur used some demonic power to allow him to reach in through the glass and give the nearest tentacle a painful tweak. The octopus flew backwards to the safety of its terracotta pot as a cloud of black ink filled the tank. Hastur giggled.

Ligur rolled his eyes. He needn’t have worried - this demon-Hastur was just the same as the angel he remembered - always poking about with things he shouldn’t, causing trouble wherever he went. They left the aquarium shortly afterwards, just before security ejected them in fact, and headed off to Soho for an evening of cocktails and conviviality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading - I really enjoyed writing this and hope it was fun to read. Happy 2021 Everyone!
> 
> If you want to let me know what you thought, or just say ‘hi’ I’d love to hear from you :)


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